


i'm a hurricane

by burning_brighter



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Artist Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Feels, F/M, Firefighter Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marijuana, Memory Loss, Minor Original Character(s), Musician Bucky Barnes, Natasha Is a Good Bro, Panic Attacks, Past Torture, Recreational Drug Use, Steve Rogers Feels, U.S. Marines, past suicide attempt mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-06-01 05:10:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 53,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6501967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burning_brighter/pseuds/burning_brighter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers is a recovering war veteran who is now a New York City firefighter. He tricks everyone into thinking he's doing just fine but he still wakes up in the middle of the night, kicking and screaming, so he paints what he dreams in hope it will help him get better.<br/>Bucky Barnes is a broken veteran who doesn't remember what happened to him after he got blown up in Afghanistan two years ago. When he finds himself at the VA for a group session led by Steve, he thinks maybe recovery won't be that hard if he has that man by his side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Just know that everyone feels broken sometimes

**Author's Note:**

> Title of the story comes from Hurricane by Halsey  
> This is the first time I post anything I ever wrote, so please, be kind.  
> I just have too many feels about these two, I had to write something.  
> English isn't my first language so I apologize for any mistakes. Feel free to let me know if you find any.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter's title from Color by The Maine

Steve Rogers has been back from Iraq long enough that people actually believe him now when he says he is fine. No one actually questions the man who smiles big so he keeps on pretending he is okay. If you would look in his eyes, you could actually see all the pain and fear he hides. But no one takes the time to properly look at him lately so hiding everything is not much of an effort anymore. He knows how unhealthy it is. He knows that at one point it’s going to come back and bite him in the ass. Hard. But for now, he’s just too damn tired of explaining what happened or how he feels about it. He knows he saw some bad shit, he knows it was twisted and sick and insane and he knows that anyone who witnessed that kind of thing can’t be okay. But really, who came back from war whole? Who came back being just the person they were before? No one. He knows everyone is broken in their own way. That’s why, after a while, he stopped going to Sam with every little thing that bothered him; because he was sick of being broken. He was tired of needing help so he decided he didn’t need it anymore; he decided he would help people.

The first day he stepped into the counselling wing of the VA, almost six months after being back home –if it could still be called home – Sam took one look at him after his breakdown and made him sit in a room for hours until he started to open up. That’s the moment Sam became the one of the only real friend that Steve has.  
Three months later, Steve was working at the VA as a group counselor. Sam had said that he needed something to occupy his day and there was no better way to do so than by helping other veterans to get better after coming home from war.

Now, five months into the job, he still doesn’t feel like he is helping anybody. After countless breakdowns, Sam has finally found a group where Steve feels comfortable in, a group where he feels like he fits in, like he can actually help. When he walks into the VA, he can see by the look in Sam’s eyes that there is something not right. _Fuck._

“Hey Sam, wassup?” Steve smiles big, like always, trying to distract Sam from looking into his eyes. He knows Sam wouldn’t judge him for not being as put together as he pretends but he doesn’t want to see the hurt, pity or even sadness in his friend’s eyes. He considered telling him so many times but the more time passed, the less he felt like doing it.

“You uh– you have someone new today.” Sam is never that hesitant, the newest addition to the group must be serious. Steve hates seeing that look in Sam’s eyes because every time he saw it in the past, something he didn’t like came after. He wasn’t prepared for something bad to happen.

“Okay, and?”

“Well, he’s not here _voluntarily_ , not really.” Sam says kind of shyly. He knows how Steve gets sometimes but all he ever wants to do is help, whether it’s helping his friends or helping other people in need.

“Fucking hell, Sam!” Steve hates when Sam does that. “What do you mean he’s not here voluntarily? Where did you find the guy this time, Sam?” He isn’t really angry but he’s pretty fed up of this shit coming from his friend. He tries not to let it show though. “Last time, you said it’d be the last time! Do you remember how it went? Cause I do!”

“Jesus, Steve, please calm down,” Sam puts his left hand on Steve shoulder and gives him a little smile. “I met the guy a couple weeks ago; he was leaving Stark Tower. Now, you know what Stark does to vets in there. He was having an attack so I helped him. We talked and I tried to get him to come to group but he wouldn’t. I just called him until he caved.”

Steve sighs and looks at Sam. “Okay, man. I’ll take care of this one but I swear _this_ is the last time you get someone to come when they don’t want to.” He can’t say no to his friend. He never could and he probably never will be able to. Sam did too much for him to deny him something like that.

Sam’s grin actually grows twice its size and he thanks Steve, before he lets him go to his only group session of the day.

As Steve steps into the room, he sees the newest member and actually stops at the door. The guy is sitting in the circle with everyone else, but he stands out in a way Steve can’t explain. With his long brown hair touching his shoulders softly and the bright blue eyes he can see all the way from where he stands. The blond lets his eyes wander over the other man’s face that is half hidden but the guy’s hair but he thinks he sees pink scars peek from the brunet’s shirt where he left shoulder meets his neck. Steve’s eyes then roam down the man’s left arm, which is covered up by his hoodie sleeve and a glove over his hand.

He tries to tear his eyes away from the man, he really does but he can’t. When he finally manages to get back control over his body, he goes to his own chair in the circle and sits down while he welcomes everyone in the room and thanks them for coming today.

“Well, it appears that we have a new member today,” says Steve, turning his gaze to the new guy. “I’m not gonna ask a lot from you today. You don’t have to share if you don’t want to but I’m just gonna ask you to introduce yourself.” Steve sees the panicked look on the other guy’s face so Steve just smiles and tries to give him an encouraging look. He knows too well how hard it is to open up in group session.

When he first came to the VA a little under a year and a half, Sam had tried to get him to open up but it was such a struggle that Steve actually broke down in the middle of a session and that’s when Sam took him aside and pulled him apart before putting him back together to be a better version of himself. That’s also why he couldn’t bear to tell Sam that he wasn’t okay, the man had taken so long trying to make him feel okay again.

Now he is seeing this man so scared just thinking of how he could open up and Steve just gets it. The brown haired man sighs and clears his throat before finally opening his mouth. “I um- my name’s James and I really don’t wanna be here if I’m being honest.”

“Well, at least honesty is good. We’re gonna start slow today, so I’m just gonna ask those who wanna speak up to tell us what feels like improvement since what we talked about last time.”

One at a time, every one speaks up about nightmares getting better, or loud sounds getting easier to handle, or letting people in getting easier. Everyone speaks up, except James. Which is not a surprise, really. The guy seems so stressed and scared of being here, of talking about what is eating him. He knows the feeling. They all do in here. James just sits there, looking at everyone while they talk, his eyes sometimes drifting over to Steve and staying there for a second or two. He nods and agrees when he needs to but he doesn’t talk about himself, not even once.

Sam always brings in people that don’t want to actually speak up, which is fine, not everybody likes to talk, but then, Sam pushes them a little too much and they snap in group and make Steve’s life a living hell for a few weeks. This is not going to be any different and he knows it. Damn, he hates Sam so fucking much sometimes.

For the rest of the session, Steve speaks a bit. He speaks about Iraq and how hard it has been to settle back into the real world, away from enemies and friends dying. He speaks about the people he has lost and how hard it was. He speaks about seeing everything he has seen and how it feels to live with that today. But he doesn’t really speak about _now_ , he doesn’t speak about the things he sees when he tries to sleep or the things he hears when he’s alone in his apartment. He pretends he’s good now, that all this doesn’t affect him anymore even though it’s not true, not at all. But everyone believes him, so he keeps the act going.

He, however, talks about his new job. He talks about the fact that he is now officially a New York City firefighter, like he always wanted to be. He goes on about how the job isn’t easy, but saving people is great and the rush he gets when running into a burning building is so _different_ from the feeling of running towards enemies armed to the teeth. He talks about how he loves this job and how it makes everything just a little easier.

At the end of the session, Steve decides he should go up to James to get a little more information out of the guy. James is standing next to the coffee machine, putting an unhealthy amount of sugar in his cup. Steve looks at him for a bit and notices how tense he is, his shoulders hunched in a way that make him seem on the defensive. Steve wonders what happened to him to make him feel this way, like he needs to be aware of everything around him just the way Steve is himself. And he knows that what made him this way is nothing he wishes on anyone.

“James,” says Steve when the man turns around to face him. “Thanks for coming. It’s already a big step you know, it’s okay if you don’t talk right away.” When Steve understands that James isn’t gonna answer, he looks down and plays with his hands. “It um- it took me so long to talk to Sam. He can be really persuasive when he wants to, I guess you should know.” He feels so awkward talking to him, it never happened to him before. He doesn’t understand how someone can make him feel so nervous when he’s _here_ and he’s _safe_.

James looks Steve up and down before settling his eyes on Steve’s face. He analyses his features of a little while before nodding to himself. The brunet looks away and down at his feet.

“Yeah, look, man. I’m not looking for help here. I just want Sam to leave me the fuck alone; he’s been harassing me for the past two weeks,” James sighs and rubs his forehead before looking back at Steve. “He said you were the only one who could help me or some bullshit like that. So, I’m gonna keep coming and you’re gonna tell him I’m doing good even though I don’t say anything. Deal?”

Steve looks at James with wide eyes and clears his throat before opening his mouth again. “It’s not how it works around here, James. I won’t tell anything to Sam, whether you speak or not. What goes on in here is none of his goddamn business,” he looks in James eyes and sighs. “Look, I’m not forcing you to come here. And I’m not forcing you to speak up. Sometimes, just listening is good enough. So do whatever you want, Sam won’t know.”

James nods and leaves the room, leaving Steve feeling puzzled. Damn, that guy is gonna give Steve insomnia for a while. He is gonna _kill_ Sam.

  
“So, how did it go?” Sam asks as soon as Steve gets into the lobby of the VA.

“It’s none of your fucking business, Wilson. You know damn well that what happens in there stays in there,” Steve says while looking at Sam over the desk the man is sitting at. The blond knows his friend doesn’t mean any harm but hell, he’s sick of him trying to help everyone.

“Oh, come on, Captain!” Sam nearly whines. “You just wanna make me pay, and I get it, but this guy is really cool so if you could just keep me in the loop with this one, I’d appreciate it.”

“You lost that right the last time you pulled this crap on me, man,” Steve says with a little smile playing on his lips. He might be upset with Sam but the guy is still one of his best friends, he never could be really mad at the guy.

“I hate you.”

Steve just laughs at that and leaves the building to go home. It’s when he can finally let go. When he goes home, it’s the moment he’s able to just drop the act and actually be himself. Hurt and broken. He just wishes he had someone to come home to, someone who would be happy to wake up next to him and someone who would be happy to just see him all the time. He just wishes someone could love him when he’s at his worst because it’s when he needs it most.

So he gets home, takes his pants off, puts on his pajamas and lays in his couch with a beer and an episode of _How to Get Away with Murder_ on Netflix.

He is fine with loud noise on TV. He can cope with the sound of a gun going off in a movie or a show because he _remembers_ how real guns sound and it’s nothing like those on TV.

He still jumps a little when a car backfires though, or when he hears fireworks go off somewhere not far from him. But he is better, he really is. During the day at least. Because when the sun is up, his demons leave him alone most of the time. His real problem is when the night comes and he needs to go to bed.

When he closes his eyes, he sees his best man bleeding out next to him while Steve is trying not to scream from the sharp pain coming from his side. And when, and if, he finally manages to sleep, he sees bombs going off. He sees himself in a building about to collapse with his friend trying to run to him before the roof caves in and falls on both of them.  
There are some nights where he can’t sleep, and there are some nights where he wakes up screaming. It’s a part of the recovery, he tells himself. He knows he could take pills and sleep like a baby every night but he doesn’t want to take the easy way out. He doesn’t want to rely on drugs to sleep. He’s too young to already need that. And he’s afraid that he won’t be able to wake up from his dreams like he usually does. He doesn’t want to be trapped in his sleep, in his head. So he suffers through nightmares, he figures it will stop at some point.

He is torn out of his memories by his phone ringing loudly next to him. He puts his beer down on the coffee table and sighs.

“I don’t need a drink, Clint, I need sleep, so leave me the fuck alone, okay?” says Steve as soon as he picks up his phone after seeing Clint’s name on his screen. He really didn’t feel like having his best friend next to him, trying to get to tell him what’s up because Clint sees through most of his bullshit. He doesn’t need this tonight.  
“Shut up, Rogers, you always need a drink.”

“Usually, but not today. I don’t wanna leave my place tonight, man. Today’s session was not easy, at all, and I need rest.”

“Or vodka.” Clint said matter-of-factly.

“You bring the vodka at my place and we get trashed here. I ain’t moving from my damn couch till Monday,” Steve says with a little smile.

Clint doesn’t even answer, he just hangs up and Steve knows he’s already on his way to the closest liquor store. He loves Clint, he really does. They have known each other for so long and they have been through so much together, seen so much shit that it keeps people tight after a war. They always had each other’s back, always. Because that’s what you do when you are at war, the guy next to you, he’s your best friend, your brother and you have to keep him alive even if sometimes, it means you might get hurt yourself, might get killed instead of them. They saved each other so many time that they actually lost count of the number of times they did. They were both discharged from the army at the same time, their whole unit was, and decided that they should move not too far from each other so that is how they found themselves on the same block, in Brooklyn.

  
It takes Clint ten minutes to get to Steve’s front door with a bottle of Russian vodka and a bottle of tequila, just in case. Steve actually welcomes him with open arms and as Clint is going for a hug, Steve just grabs the bottles and turns around to get back inside his apartment with Clint following him closely. They both fall onto the couch and Steve opens the bottle of vodka, takes a few swings from it and gives it to Clint.

“So, Rogers, what’s up at the VA? Everything’s going okay?” Clint asks between two gulps. He turns to Steve and raises an eyebrow. Steve sighs, knowing Clint was going to start asking him a bunch of questions about what is bothering him and how he is feeling and when are they planning on doing whatever Clint is feeling like doing.

  
“Well, Sam brought someone again. Someone who doesn’t want to be there, you know?” Steve takes the bottle back from Clint again and takes a swing, “And I don’t want to be dealing with a guy who’s gonna fuck me up again.”

“Aw, come on now, Cap, maybe this one is not so bad! Give the guy a chance.”

Steve ponders that for a bit. The last guy that Sam had practically forced to come to his group was a complete asshole. He came to every single session for a couple of months and when Steve asked him to speak up the guy went completely mad. And he talked, that he did. He threw everything at Steve’s face. And it was a really bad time for Steve. He was feeling so bad, he wasn’t sleeping at that point and when that happened, he just lost his mind. The two men had a screaming match for about ten minutes before Sam came in the room to rescue his friend and dragged him home. They stayed up all night and Steve cried on Sam’s shoulder not saying a word. The words he exchanged with that stranger in group, what Steve said and what the other man said was playing on repeat in his head. They both had yelled horrible things like _you should have died back there_ or _you fucking selfish piece of shit, couldn’t even protect your friends._

The last thing Steve wants is to go through that again. Because the feeling he had that day, he never wants to feel that again. No matter how bad he gets, he never feels that. He just hopes that James is not some time bomb waiting to explode in Steve’s face at any moment.

He doesn’t even bother answering Clint at this point, the other man knows where his mind went and except handing him the bottle, he does nothing. He’s so damn happy to still have Clint in his life because he doesn’t know what he would do without the man.

“Man, what the fuck are you watching?” Clint questions at the sight of the episode still playing on TV. Steve has totally forgotten that his show was still on while they talked and turns back to see people arguing on the screen.

“Oh, this show is great dude! I have so many shows to catch up on from the past years, it’s crazy! When I left, Supernatural had just aired, like, its third season and now they’re starting the eleventh one,” Steve says, turning to his best friend with wide eyes.

“Ok, so you’re planning on watching every single TV show that aired in the past decade?” Clint looks at him like he’s crazy, because, well Steve does sound crazy right now. He knows they have been away for most of their twenties but Steve is still so fucking young that he should still be going out every night and sleep with everyone he finds attractive because fuck, Steve is twenty-nine for fuck sake. He should be out there enjoying his life instead of trying to put it back together.

Clint understands. He is going to be thirty-three in a few weeks and he enrolled in the US Army when he turned eighteen. He doesn’t know how he fucking survived for almost fifteen years in a war that doesn’t seem to end but somehow he did and he is fine now. He can go out in clubs and not freak out because _holy fuck someone is touching me_ and he can go to rock concerts again and go into mosh pits because he isn’t _broken_ anymore, he fixed himself over the years.

He was home for two years in between tours once so he knows how to live in society. He didn’t forget how it was to live in the real world where there is no one out to get you. So being discharged was something good and he got back to active life pretty easily. Because it is who he is, he adapts quickly and he forgets the past.

“Pretty much, yeah. Only the ones I think are cool, though, I don’t wanna watch that _Pretty Little Liars_ shit.” Steve let a little laughs escape. Because he isn’t going to waste his time with a shitty TV show that is making absolutely no sense and is just so wrong. He no longer has time to waste away doing useless stuff.

“Seems fair. When you get to the good shit like _The Walking Dead_ , call me, we can do a marathon together. That show looks so fuckin’ awesome.”

Steve promises his friend that they will watch it together, and then they settle on a movie while drinking vodka quietly. Clint was right, he really needed this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you guys think?  
> Thanks for reading!!


	2. I waited for darkness to fill my light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's chapter two already. I'm not sure how often I'll be posting, don't expect anything regular for now though.  
> Title from Jeremy Loops's song Higher Stakes. I'm planing on making a playlist for this story, with all the songs that make me think of this or are relatable in any way  
> Hope you enjoy this one, thanks for the response for the first chapter, means a lot!  
> Anyway, here you go, have some Bucky.

When James Barnes woke up in the hospital after losing his arm, he thought he had lost his mind. He had no recollection of what had happened and he couldn’t understand why the hell he was in a hospital bed. He looked down at his shoulder and he saw this metal _thing_. He lifted it and _holy fuck that’s my arm_ was what popped into his head. He looked to his other side and saw Natasha seating there, asleep next to him. He then really thought he had gone crazy. She usually didn’t give a shit about anyone being injured. But his friend was right there, tears tracks on her cheeks and he felt something click in him.

He would never do anything to put her in that state ever again.

When Nat looked at him, lying in this bed with his eyes finally opened, she couldn’t help the tears that came to her eyes. She looked at him and just smiled before she hugged him so tight James thought he had started to cry himself. He wasn’t sure, he was overwhelmed and all his senses were fucked up. When they parted, Nat just kissed his cheek and nodded to let him know he was fine. James looked at her with tears in his eyes and smiled because with Nat by his side, he knew he would make it, he would be just fine.

“What happened to my arm?” asked James, his voice breaking a bit.

He saw his friend hesitate slightly before she spoke “We drove over a bomb and um – I tried to shield you but I couldn’t get your arm. James, I’m so sorry, I should have –” her voice was hoarse and cracked and she couldn’t finish her sentence.

“Not your fault,” James gave her a little smile and pulled her in a tight hug. She whispered nice words in his ear, running her fingers through her friend’s hair, trying to get him to sleep. He was also murmuring things in Nat’s neck, saying all this wasn’t her fault, that it was what he signed up for when he joined the marines. He told her he loved her, that she was his best friend and nothing could get him mad at her. She said she’d take care of him, whatever he needed; she’d give it to him because that was the least she could do for her best friend.

“Your hair is longer,” James pointed when Natasha went back to her seat next to his bed. He was frowning a little bit, wondering how long he was asleep for, because Nat had changed so damn much.

“James, it’s been that way for the past year or so. You’re the one who cut it,” Nat said, frowning a bit herself because even though she noticed that his memory was messed up, she had hoped that he would at least remember _her_.

“That’s not possible, it was over your shoulder the last time I saw you,” the brunet said, shaking his head slightly.

“Can you tell me which year we’re in?”

“Um – early 2013?” James said, formulating his answer as a question.

“Bucky, it’s late 2014. You got hurt in the summer and – you’ve been out for a little while. Stark needed time to make the arm,” she was worried even more. Her best friend had forgotten a year and a half of his life and she didn’t know what to do with that.

In a way, she was glad he didn’t remember what happened after the explosion. It was horrible and maybe the fact that his mind made him forget is a sign of some sort. If you believe in that kind of thing, that is.

The man stayed silent, looking away from Natasha. He couldn’t stop his mind from going places he wished it wouldn’t. He tried his best to remember, to force his brain to retrieve his memories but he couldn’t.

So he freaked out again and it took his friend an hour to finally be able to calm him down and help him fall asleep for a few more hours.

Now, after months of physical therapy, James is back in Brooklyn. He’s still learning how to live with a fucking bionic arm and foggy memories, but he’s mostly doing fine. Natasha is living with him because _“like hell I’m letting your idiotic ass live alone after everything that happened”_  was how she put it last year. Even though he keeps telling her that he is _fine and does not need a goddamn babysitter_.

He doesn’t tell her that he still freaks out every time he goes to the Stark Tower to get his arm checked. He doesn’t say that it’s hard for him to breathe when he’s in a crowded place or when someone brushes his arm when they pass him the street. He doesn’t say that sometimes he gets pieces of memories back and his heart aches so much he can’t breathe. He doesn’t mention the fact that he isn’t able to say what is a dream and what is a memory. He absolutely doesn’t say that he tries to always have a wall behind him so no one can come up behind him when he’s sitting in an unknown place. He certainly doesn’t tell her that some dude found him having a huge panic attack in the lobby of Stark’s building and he doesn’t tell her that the guy is forcing him to go to a fucking therapy group at the VA.

He gets text messages from Sam almost every day, telling him to come to a meeting and see how it goes, saying that it will help, that it will be good for him. James declines every time, telling him that he doesn’t want to talk about it, that Sam needs to back the _fuck_ off. And every day, Sam asks again, trying to find another way to convince him because he’s so damn sure that James needs it – they all do. And after a while, he caves in because _fuck_ _the dude_ is _insistent._

That is why he’s walking into the VA’s lobby on a Thursday morning of October, soaking wet because he did _not_ see the rain coming. And that’s why he’s in front of Sam, who he really doesn’t want to see, and the other man is talking his ears off about something he couldn’t be bothered to actually listen to. Because all he can think about is just going back to his apartment, to his room, and crawl in his bed and not get up for hours or maybe a few days. All he wants is to be in the quiet space of his place and just let his thoughts take over.

“Yeah so, Steve is gonna lead your group today. He’s great, you’ll love him, I swear, man! He went through tough shit in Iraq and uh- not my story to tell but whatever,” Sam rambles a little longer before James tells him he should go in. He didn’t get anything that Sam said before that, not a single word because he honestly couldn’t care less in this moment.

When he sits down, there already is a dozen people sitting in a circle of chairs and two are vacant. He takes the one facing the doors and waits. The only thing he thinks about is how there’s so much space behind his chair and how someone could come up behind him, not that he’d let anyone surprise him, not after everything he’s been through. He looks over everyone in the room, seeing them chat and joke and _laugh_ and James just thinks he can’t do this, he can’t let himself be that carefree.  A few minutes after, James hears the door open again and he looks up.

What he sees is not what he expected at all. A tall, muscular, blond man is standing there looking at him. He’s just staring at James, letting his eyes roam from his face to his arm. James feels so uneasy now, so he lets his own eyes drift to his lap and waits. The guy, who he guesses is Steve, finally shakes out of his thoughts and goes sit down in the last remaining chair in the circle. He clears his throat before asking James to introduce himself to the group.

They look each other in the eyes for a second before James sighs and does what he’s asked. He doesn’t want to do this. It isn’t what he planned on doing today. He just wanted to lie in bed and try to play piano again but miserably fail because of this _fucking_ arm.

He sometimes hates this, hates what the war made him, and he just feels so broken all the time, he feels like a goddamn monster most of the time – sometimes he thinks his arm looks pretty sick.

Since he came back from overseas, he just couldn’t see himself as a human anymore. This war made him something he was never supposed to be, he feels like the person he used to be _before_ died somewhere in him and he’s now a whole new person. And he doesn’t know how to deal with all of that, he doesn’t know how to deal with all those feelings and memories he has – or hasn’t – but doesn’t understand. He’s just so different now and he just wants to know how that really affects his life.

He just sits in his chair for the whole session and he doesn’t say a word. He listens to everyone else talking about little things. About how they are getting better, how their nights are getting quieter and how triggers are getting rarer. He then listens to Steve talk about what happened to him in Iraq on his last tour and how he’s coping with it, what he does to try to feel a little better. But he does not hear Steve talk about what’s going on now. Steve does not talk about his sleepless nights or what triggers him. James does hear Steve go on about his new job and how it feels to be back in the active world where he doesn’t feel so useless anymore.

After the session, James makes himself an extra sugary coffee and when he’s about to drink it, he sees Steve walking up to him. He listens to Steve but honestly, he can’t concentrate on anything other than the dude’s eyes. The man is so damn beautiful and mesmerizing; he can’t look away from the prettiest blue eyes he’s ever seen.

He doesn’t want to be doing this and he doesn’t feel ashamed to tell it straight to the guy’s face. When their little chat is over, James almost runs out of there and jumps in his car. He goes home; the only stop he makes is to buy a bottle of vodka in that Russian store Natasha is always talking about. He knows she isn’t home and that he will be alone for at least another hour, just the time he needs to get properly drunk and maybe pass out on his bed.

He doesn’t dream as much when he drinks a lot so he usually does. Natasha doesn’t approve but honestly, even if he knows she was in the army way longer than he was, sometimes even James wonders if she has a heart because she is never fazed by anything which can be unsettling sometimes. He knows though, that Natasha just pretends to not have a heart. It’s a defense mechanism she mastered over the years.

Once he gets home, he settles on the couch and turns on the TV to whatever he can find and opens his bottle. He drinks straight from it because what is the point of using a glass anyway? When he is halfway through the bottle, he goes to sit in front of his piano in his room. He looks at his left hand for a while before he finally lifts it to run his fingers on the keys. He pushes on a couple of them, then puts his other hand on the piano and tries to remember how to move his metal fingers to make pretty sounds. He is so scared of breaking his piano. He isn’t a materialistic person but _this_ , this piano used to be his everything. He used to spend a lot of time in his room, playing for hours on end, until his fingers were numb. It was his only escape when he was a teenager, until he enlisted in the military that is.

Going to war was a crazy idea he had when he was just twenty one. He was desperate and his life wasn’t working out. He had the chance to have a sports scholarship to attend Columbia but he got badly hurt during the season of his junior year and never really recovered.

They told him he wouldn’t be able to play anymore, that it was too dangerous so he gave up. He started to find other way to pass his time, like take tests or exams for other people. He needed the money at that point and he was alone in New York, except for his grandmother. Thing is, he got caught during the finals. So when he got kicked out of college, he decided to pack a bag and leave for the army. And he spent seven years there, gave an arm for his country. All he got out of it was Natasha.

She was heaven sent.  She saved him so many times and he never got to return the favor. She was in the car with him. When it blew up, they were in the back so they weren’t the ones to lose their lives. Natasha knew something was wrong, she saw the mine they were about to drive on so she grabbed the first thing she could, which was an enormous metal box full of food, and shielded James and herself with it. His left arm wasn’t protected by the makeshift shield. Natasha pulled him out of the car, actually crying after seeing James go limp in her arms. Their entire unit was dead or gravely injured, leaving Natasha the only conscious person. It was a bloodbath and fortunately, James remembered very little of it.

He manages to not butcher the song he was playing but it’s still shit. He _used_ to be so good. He actually was on his way to become a professional player before he gave everything up. Everyone said he was crazy, said he was throwing his life away by going to the army but James just didn’t give a shit anymore. All he wanted was to get out of there, he was so sick of Brooklyn and his life and his family so he just threw everything to shit. He was the only one in charge of his life, after all.

He drinks while he plays and at the end, he mostly just drinks. He’s so sick of not being able to do what he used to. He just wants to be able to get out of his head again; he just wants to stop feeling.

When he realizes he doesn’t have anything to drink anymore, he gets up and goes to his bed. He quickly checks his phone just in case Natasha sent him a text but he has nothing so he lets his eyes close for a moment and drifts off to sleep quietly.

When he wakes up, it’s already night out and Natasha is hovering above him. He opens his eyes and is startled to see his friend so close to him. He gives her a mean look and rolls around so his back is turned to her.

“James, don’t be a child. Why are you asleep?” Nat says, coming closer to James to give him a quick hug, instantly smelling the alcohol in his breath, “and drunk? Fucking hell!”

“Fuck off, Tasha,” James mumbles back towards his friend who comes to sit just beside him. She puts her hand in his hair and strokes his head a little.

“What’s happening, Bucky?” Natasha asks with a soft voice she uses only with James and only when she can feel that he’s upset. She can tell how he’s _feeling_ all the time, like she’s actually able to read his mind or something. It is something that always impressed Bucky.

“You never call me ‘ _Bucky’_ , you’re desperate,” Bucky laughs a little. He knows it isn’t the moment to be laughing but he can’t help it, he always tries to laugh when he gets uncomfortable. That’s how he hides his uneasiness.

“It’s called caring you fucking asshole. So?”

“Okay, okay,” Bucky says as he turns around and rests his head on his friend’s lap. She continues to pet his hair like she knows James likes. He nuzzles slightly against her thigh and sighs, “I met this guy a couple weeks ago and –“

“Is this all about some dude?” Natasha asks because _of fucking course James would be so down just because of a goddamn dude_ but really, he was such a child sometimes.

“Shut up or leave,” Bucky says and as he predicted, Natalia nods and gestures to Bucky to continue. “Good. So I was leavin’ Stark’s after goin’ in for a checkup for my arm and when I left, I couldn’t control it properly so I freaked out. The guy found me and we exchanged numbers cause he wanted to be sure I’d be fine. He just – he kinda like harassed me for weeks to go to the VA for a group session. And I went, okay. And it fuckin’ sucked.”

“So your first instinct was to go buy a bottle of top-shelf Russian vodka? Damn, Barnes, you’re more and more like me. M’not sure if it’s a good thing or not,” Natasha gives him a little smile and kisses him on the forehead. “You’ll be just fine Jamie, I’m proud of you for going. I know s’not easy to talk about feelings and shit. But trust me, you’ll feel way better.”

“Yeah well, I ain’t speaking in this shitty group things, I don’t want everyone to know all my shit.”

“You know that you can get private sessions with the counselors, right?” Natasha unties Bucky’s hair and starts running her fingers through it to untangle it. She knows it always soothes him to have his hair touched and his scalp massaged so that’s always what she does when Bucky is in any way in pain. “It could be better for you, maybe?”

“That’s not such a bad idea, I’ll think bout it, okay?” Now that Natasha said it, Bucky does believe it’s a good idea. He knows he’s not ready to open up to a bunch of people but maybe if he got to just talk to one person who isn’t going to judge him for anything he’s done, who isn’t going to say he’s being delusional because of everything he feels and remembers. So he’s really going to think about that, because _why the hell not?_

“Great! Now let’s get some food into you!”

Bucky finally gets out of his bed and follows Natasha to the kitchen where a few takeout boxes are sitting. His friend brought Indian food after work and Bucky couldn’t be any happier about it. He loves food, especially Indian food. Natasha really can read his mind.

They have dinner while watching TV and talking about their day. Bucky talks a little more about his group session and about Sam who forced him to go. Natasha talks about her day at work at the café she opened a few months ago. They always said that when Bucky would be better, he would go work with her there.

But Bucky is not fine and they both know it.

Natasha spends a lot of nights in James’s room when he wakes her up screaming at the top of his lungs, tossing and turning, being tortured by memories in the form of nightmares.  He doesn’t even wake up when he is like that but he sure as hell wakes up everyone else. Those are the worst nights. When he has a really bad nightmare but can’t wake up from it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit me up on Tumblr udontwearmychains.tumblr.com


	3. I'm meaner than my demons, I'm bigger than these bones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky finally talk and sort some things out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a new chapter for you! I hope you all like it, I really enjoyed writing this one.  
> This one's a bit longer, I'm trying to write longer chapters but kinda struggling. Doing my best!  
> Chapter's title from Control by Halsey

Being a firefighter is something that Steve has always wanted to do but being was never able to even fathom being one, being the sick kid that he was. So it just wasn’t on the table for him. But then he got better. Really better.  So he gave it a shot. He took and passed the tests but during his first real fire, he noticed that the smoke was so bad for his still weak lungs. He then opted for his plan B; the army. 

Now that he’s back though, he really is better. And he felt so helpless for so long after coming home that he just thought ‘why not?’ and that’s how, a few months before starting to work at the VA with Sam, he felt ready again.

Getting to wake up for every shift and thinking he’s finally going to help people is still the best feeling. And that’s exactly the way he feels as soon as he wakes up at five thirty on Monday morning for his usual run. And like every morning, he catches up with Sam jogging around the park. They run together for a while before both going different ways and heading home. Steve stops by the coffeehouse he loves so much even if it makes him take a detour to his place. He chats a bit with the owner and goes home at a normal pace. He takes a shower and once he’s dressed, he gets into his car and drives to the firehouse.

In the short time he’s been a part of this house, it became a second home to him. He loves everyone who works here and they all made him feel welcome since the first day.

Everyone made space for him as soon as he got here. They all gave him the time he needed to adjust and everyone was so damn understanding of his trauma. The chief let him go for a couple hours sometimes, when he desperately needed to chat with Sam or go see his mom because he was struggling. Never in his life could he have imagined being surrounded by people _t_ _hat_ good.

His firehouse has two trucks and one ambulance, which means there are fourteen of them, counting the chief. Steve works with truck 84 along with four other firefighters and a candidate. There’s the rescue squad that counts five men and then they have two paramedics.

When Steve first got to the house, he was just a candidate with close to no experience. After a few months, they had an opening and they offered him a permanent spot on Truck and Steve had been so excited to finally get to make his dream come true.

He has been doing this for almost a year now and he couldn’t ask for a better job.

He knows it’s dangerous. He knows that one day he might not be able to get out of a fire or might have to sacrifice himself for a fellow firefighter or just a civilian trapped in a building on fire. He knows some calls are dangerous. He is aware that fire isn’t his only enemy. But he wouldn’t give it up for the world.

The first thing Steve sees this morning is his lieutenant, James Rhodes, bossing around their new candidate around the house. James is a forty-something year-old strong, tall black man. He can be quite intimidating and Steve found himself afraid of him more than once. But he has now realized that Rhodes is the nicest man ever. He cares about his men so much and would sacrifice everything for any of them.

Steve smiles at them but goes straight to Chief Fury’s office. Once he’s in front of the door, he takes a deep breath then knocks on the door before entering the room. Fury looks up from his paperwork and nods at Steve. Steve smiles and sits in front of his Chief.

Fury is a damn scary man. Unlike Rhodes, Steve still feels anxious around the man sometimes. Not in a bad way, he would trust the chief with his life, but he is sure the man could do anything if he put his mind to it.

“Rogers, good to see you,” Chief says, putting his pen down to look at Steve properly. He isn’t smiling but Steve guesses it doesn’t mean anything because he doesn’t recall ever seeing Fury smile in the months he’s been here. They chat for a minute but then, Steve sees Fury’s eyes get serious. “About what happened last shift –” Fury starts but gets interrupted by Steve.

“I’m sorry about last shift, Chief, won’t happen again. The shit outside the house shouldn’t come and affect my performance on the job. I apologize,” Steve answers looking down at his hands like always does when he’s nervous or sorry. He guesses that right now, he is both. When he looks up at Fury, the man has a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

“Nonsense, Rogers. Just wanted you to know that you could talk to me, or any other person in this house, for that matter, about whatever is bothering you.”

“Thank you, Chief, means a lot,” Steve smiles softly. “Just had a really bad night before last shift and it shouldn’t be an excuse anymore at this point but—”

“Steve, go get ready!”

The blond just nods and gets up, thanking his chief once again. He goes to the locker room to drop his bag and get everything he needs when he hears the alarm blaring above his head.

> _Squad 5, Truck 84, Ambulance 54, structure fire, 180, Liberty Avenue._

Steve runs to the truck, puts his gear on as fast as possible and takes his spot inside the truck, waiting for the lieutenant to get in. Once everyone is in, they leave the firehouse with the sirens blaring.

“At least, there’s no time to be bored around here,” says Pietro Maximoff, the youngest firefighter in the house.

“Shut up and drive, Maximoff,” answer Lieutenant Rhodes.

Steve looks around the truck and chats with Peter Parker, the new candidate. He’s a nice guy, really shy and reserved but he’s gonna make one hell of a firefighter. He’s got guts and isn’t scared of anything. Despite being twenty and fresh out of the academy, he’s already goddamn good.

His colleagues on Truck consist in his lieutenant, James Rhodes; the new candidate, Peter Parker; Loki Odinson, who is the firefighter who has been on Truck for the longest; the only female firefighter Steve knows, Maria Hill; and their truck driver, Pietro Maximoff. They’re all fun and great to be around, which makes the job that much easier.

They make it to the fire in less than five minutes, the ambulance right behind them and Squad coming from the other end of the street. They all get off the trucks and quickly assess the situation.

“Rogers and Maximoff, primary search! From top to bottom, go,” yells Fury. At the same time, Steve can hear Lieutenant Thor Odinson, Loki’s brother, telling two of his men, Peter Quill and Wade Wilson, to follow behind Steve and Pietro. After putting on their oxygen masks, they all rush into the burning building.

While he is headed inside, Steve can see the areal ladder closing in to the roof so Parker and Loki can vent the roof.

“Fire department, call out if you can hear me,” screams Steve so that he can be heard through his mask.

On the second floor, he hears noises behind a door so he calls out again. Someone calls back and Steve kicks in the door. Next to the sofa is a little fragile figure, hiding from the flames. The man rushes to the kid and lifts her up in his arms before he rushes to the main door. He exits the building and runs to Jane and Darcy, the paramedics, and puts the little girl and the gurney. He stays close for a couple of minutes to make sure that the kid is fine and that’s she’s not too injured. As Steve is about to run back into the building, he’s stopped by the chief who’s saying to everyone that they have one minute left to get out of the house before if goes to shit.

It probably is the longest minute of Steve’s life, as he waits for Quill and Wilson to get out. Peter stumbles out of the building and Steve goes up to him so he can catch the man before he falls on his face.

The smoke coming out of the roof is now thick and black. They all hear the windows blow up and that’s when they realize it.

Wilson didn’t make it out on time.

Brock Rumlow, the best squad member they’ve ever had, runs into the house to get Wade, even if everyone tells him to _stay the fuck out of this fire_. That’s what they do after all, they look after each other and risk their lives for their fellow firefighters. The moment Rumlow enters the house, everyone kind of holds their breath because it’s fucking awful and scary to just think about one of their men going down.

When Brock finally comes out, the other man is on his shoulder, Wade’s mask slightly melted. There’s a hole in his gear and Steve immediately thinks of the worst.

Since Steve has known Wade, he always had scars on his face. He doesn’t know where they come from and he doesn’t ask. He knows though, that Wade got them when he was young. But right now, all Steve can see is the melted plastic on Wilson’s face and the look of pure pain he’s wearing and _holy shit_ it feels just like war. It feels just like seeing his men being shot at or being blown up. Steve keeps it together, he has to after all, it’s his job, but he’s still pretty freaked out. He’s snapped out of his thoughts by Rumlow screaming at him, or anyone really, to _fucking help him, goddamit_.

Steve rushes to his side and puts Wilson on the gurney from the ambulance. Everyone else is busy putting the fire out while Brock and Steve are busy trying to get the melting mask off of Wade’s face before putting him in the back of the ambulance. Steve turns around to look at his chief and his lieutenant and he finds Fury’s eyes that tell him to get in that ambulance and drive to the hospital with Wade and Brock. So he does. He joins Brock in the back while Jane drives them to the closest hospital.

“Ambo 54, on route with an injured firefighter,” Steve can hear Darcy’s voice but doesn’t register what’s happening to the fullest.

In the months Steve has been working with them, they never had an accident like that. Sure they had people tripping and falling in fires but never anything serious. When Steve was still a candidate, up until a couple months ago, he used to stubble and trip over stupid things in fires. No one was ever really hurt though. It’s a weird sensation to say the least.

They finally get to the hospital and he and Brock help the nurses to get the gurney out of the ambulance before they see their brother being rolled away in the ER. They can’t go any further, so they just sit in the waiting area just outside Wade’s room and do the only thing they can do. Wait.

“Fuck,” Steve hears himself breath.

They just sit there for a while, looking around the room and not saying a word. This is intense. Steve has never found himself in a room with so much tension with Brock, it feels weird. But right now, all he can think about is Wade who is _so_ close to them. And Steve doesn’t even know if his friend is going to be okay or not. Steve can’t breathe properly, his chest feels so tight and his lungs burn every time he takes in air.

He finally turns to Brock and the man smiles at him before he puts his hand on Steve’s thigh. Steve gives him a pained look and the expression on Brock’s face couldn’t _be_ more explicit. Brock is asking him to make him forget, to make it better. The brunet gives him another smile, pats his leg before he lets his hand drift further up his thigh, strokes it a bit, and then lets it go.

Steve doesn’t know what to do. Brock has made him feel better before, he’s made him forget about a lot of shit, but right now, they’re in the hospital, waiting for their friend and they can’t do anything but wait, and wait, and wait some more. So Steve decides to ignore Brock’s hand and focuses on thinking about Wade and nothing else because it’s all he can do about the situation. There’s nothing he can do to make his friend better.

Not too long after, a nurse comes to see them, saying that their fellow firefighter is heavily sedated but he’s fine.

“He did inhale a lot of smoke and plastic so his lungs are burned. His face didn’t sustain many burns though, so I guess that’s good. Wade’s been through worse, he’ll be just fine, don’t you guys worry! He’s gonna be out for at least three hours so you can go back to work and if anything changes, I’ll give you a call, yeah?” the nurse, Sharon, says with a smile.

“Thank you so much Sharon,” Brock says quietly before hugging the woman. Sharon has been taking care of injured firefighters for a long as the woman has been working here. He’s seen a lot of her with his mother working in this same hospital up until a year ago and Sharon being related to his ex-girlfriend.

When they get back to the house, they update everyone who just came back from their call on Wade’s condition and they all go back to work. The rest of the day is smooth and they swing back to the hospital on their way back from a call in the late afternoon. They stay there for a while and before leaving, they make sure that Wade is fine and that he doesn’t need anyone to stick around. Once they’re back, Parker makes them food and they all go to sleep around ten.

Steve doesn’t sleep right away though. He reads a bit, goes for a quick run, takes a long shower, then goes in his bed. It’s a quiet night and they only get a couple of calls but nothing too serious. When the clock hits eight the next morning, they all go to the hospital to see Wade. The man is doing really good and will be able to go back to work in a couple weeks. When they are leaving the hospital, Brock comes up behind Steve, puts his mouth really close to the blond’s ear and asks him to come home with him. Steve actually hesitates for a second but finally declines and says he has plans for the day.

Steve goes home and just sits in the quiet for a long while. He turns on his TV for background noise and tries to draw a bit but his mind is too busy to concentrate. He goes to his room and changes into his running gear. After putting his shoes on, he pushes play on the music player from his phone and takes a few dollars to buy himself coffee on the way back. He runs for a while. A really long while. He just needs to clear his head and it’s the only way he can these days.

He runs around Brooklyn for long hours before he finds himself in front of his regular coffee shop, sweating and panting. He looks at his watch and sees that it’s past noon already so he decides to get lunch as well as coffee.

He enters the small café and looks around smiling. He loves this place. It’s so calm and warm and it feels like _home_. Natasha is behind the counter, like every day, and she smiles at Steve as soon as he walks through the door.

Natasha is a petite redhead woman. She has a cold thing about her but once you get close to the woman and actually talk to her, she is the sweetest girl Steve has ever met. He walks up to the counter, says hi and orders his coffee and his lunch.

“Damn Steve, you look exhausted,” Natasha says over her shoulder as she makes him his coffee, “how long were you running before you came over?” Nat looks him over thoroughly and Steve can see worry shine in her eyes. It feels oddly good to have someone just being concerned about him but not asking or wanting anything from him.

“I don’t know, three or four hours maybe? I ain’t sure. I had an awful shift so I needed the distraction.”

“Fuck. What happened?” Natasha asks and now, the worry is obvious in her eyes and Steve is just relieved that she’s being so good about this. Talking to her has always been something Steve loved and looked forward to doing.

“One of our rescue squad member got hurt pretty bad yesterday morning and it was tough. It’s always tough, you know. But anyway, how are _you_ feeling Nat?” Steve asks, smiling genuinely for the first time in days.

“I’m fine! Business has been good, can’t complain,” she says turning around, facing Steve and sliding the coffee cup on the counter, “there you go! You should go home and take a shower though, you’re scaring off my customers with your smell,” Natasha laughs. Steve shakes his head slightly and gives her a little laugh before paying for everything and leaving after he blows her a kiss.

Once he’s home, he throws out his now empty coffee cup and sits down in his kitchen to eat. He thinks about the new people in his life. People like Nat. She’s been so good to him. Always being a shoulder to lean on. She’s always listened to him and never said a thing to judge him. He knows she’s been through some shit because he knows she went to war and he knows she’s been to Iraq and Syria and he knows how much it sucks out there. This helps people bond, in a weird way.

Halfway through his lunch, his feels his phone buzz in his running arm brace. Without looking at his phone, he answers.

“Yo, man, can you swing by the VA like, now?” Steve hears a voice ask on the other side of the line.

“Sam, why do you need me? You know it’s supposed to be my day off today, I just got home,” Steve protests even though he damn well knows he’s gonna go to the VA because he’s not an asshole and because when Sam asks, Steve delivers. “I was supposed to go see my mom today.”

“Can you hold a group session today? Please say yes, please?” Sam begs. Steve swears that sometimes he’s a goddamn five year old kid. He loves him to death though. “You’ll go see your mom afterwards, it won’t take that long, I swear.”

“Let me take a shower, I’ll be there ASAP,” Steve says, sighing, “why d’you need me all of a sudden? No one else available today?”

“Not for this. Shut up and get your ass here, thank you, bye.”

Steve sighs again and gets up to go take a shower. He doesn’t take too long under the water and soon after, he is in his car, driving to the VA. He gets there thirty minutes later, parks outside the building and heads to the room where his group sessions are held. He crosses Sam in the hallway and the man thanks him but doesn’t mention why he needed him. Steve shrugs and heads into the room. The first thing he sees is James.

The first thing he sees is always James, each time he walks into a group session. He can’t take his eyes off the brunet, he never can. The other man is just so mesmerizing, it’s insane. With his long hair hiding his face and his glove hiding his hand.

James is beautiful, it’s something that Steve couldn’t deny, but the dark-haired man been a dick since day one.

James has been coming for about two weeks now, twice a week. He doesn’t share much and Steve hasn’t been able to talk to him because he bails as soon as the session is over. Well, he doesn’t share at all, really. He just nods at what other people say. He stares at Steve when the other man speaks but the brunet never talks. He just sometimes says he understands, leans closer to the guy next to him and puts a hand on his shoulder. But that’s all. It never goes further than that.

Today though, it’s different. James as something in his eyes that makes him look so damn determined.

“Hi everyone, sorry for being late,” Steve apologizes while he’s sitting down right in front of James, “Ok, so I guess I’m gonna start today,” he says, looking at everyone in the room. They look at him, nodding.

“As you may know, I’m a firefighter” Steve starts saying. “Yesterday, at the beginning of my shift, a coworker got badly hurt. I didn’t know what to do and all I could think about was being back in that desert, seeing my men die around me and not being able to do shit about it. I felt so helpless. It had been a while since I had felt like that. But it’s okay to. What I went through, what each of you went through, it leaves marks. Some of them are gonna disappear, some won’t. Some of them are in our heads; some of them are on our skin. And it’s okay, they make us who we are, we only need to learn how to live with them.”

James stares at Steve throughout all his speech. He looks fascinated by the other man. When Steve asks who wants to talk, James slowly lifts his hand and looks at Steve with the most _heartbreaking_ look Steve has ever seen. He nods at the smaller man and smiles softly, encouraging him to speak up. James clears his throat and lets his gaze fall back to his hands, one of them still hidden underneath a black leather glove.

“When I got back to the US, I spent months in the hospital. And when they finally let me go home, I didn’t know how to be alone. A friend who was with me in – who was with me _overseas_ , she came to live with me. I couldn’t get out of our place in the first few weeks. I was scared of what would happen, you know. I couldn’t lose anything again; I couldn’t go through that again. But then I didn’t have the choice anymore, I had to get out. It was so hard, seeing the place I grew up in being so… so different and unsafe to me.” James pauses for a second as he looks up to Steve, as if to ask if he’s doing well. Steve gestures for him to continue and that’s exactly what James does.

“Sometimes, I wonder what would have happened if I had never gotten hurt. I wonder if I’d still be out there, fighting for my country or if I’d be dead already. I can’t get it out of my head, _I_ can’t get out of my head,” James says softly, “and I don’t know how to remember everything that happened to me. I don’t know if it’s worse to know and try to fix it but fail or not knowing what happened but trying to fix it anyway. I have bits and pieces coming back over time but I mostly forgot more than a year of my life. And I don’t know how to cope with that,” he finishes,

When he looks back up at Steve, the blond is just watching him with so much pain in his eyes, but it feels nothing like pity, it feels like _understanding_. And it feels so good to Bucky because, in the past, every time he talked about it, people would just look at him with so much pity in their eyes that James just wanted to crawl into a hole and never have to face anyone ever again. But Steve, he makes him feel good about it.

“Thank you for sharing, James, really,” says Steve so softly he wonders if anyone heard him. He can’t keep his eyes off of James. Even as other people talk, his eyes always wander back to James’s face.

Steve is so surprised and so glad James finally came around and decided to speak up. It’s the only way to overcome what they’ve been through, to actually ease the pain a little. It’s not easy to live with all the things they’ve done and seen while they were in the army, it was horrible and it leaves marks way deeper than anyone could ever imagine.

They all have scars that no one will ever be able to see and things they won’t ever tell anyone because it was just that _awful_.

After the session, Steve stands up so fast he feels lightheaded for a moment but he goes straight to James anyway. He looks him over quickly then steps in front of him.

“Not so fast, Marine,” Steve says loudly, looking hard into James’s eyes. James face hardens for a second and he straightens but then there’s something else in his eyes, something like relief. He looks so damn relieved to have someone just know he’s a Marine, without needing to ask or anything, but just _knowing_. Steve is familiar with that feeling.

“Takes one to know one,” James says with a ghost of a smile on his face. He looks the blond over from head to toe and hums quietly. “Should’ve seen it though. You _do_ look like a Marine.”

Steve wonders for a second what that’s supposed to mean but then, he realizes he does look like Marine. He’s still built like a brick wall and his hair is still the same as it’s been for the last nine years. He doesn’t know why he keeps it like that, he grew to like it. It makes him look important and that’s still something he likes.

Being a Marine is still something he is proud of. He will probably always be proud of it. It doesn’t matter how many bad things he has done, he still believes it was for the greater good.

“Well, I guess that’s what eight years in the Marine Corps will do to you. Captain Steve Rogers, by the way,” Steve is trying not to smile but he fails and gives James a big smile.

“Sergeant James Barnes,” he says giving him a mock salute. James gives him a small smile back, which is good enough for Steve. “Fuck, Captain? You for real? Why did you cut your career short?” James seems genuinely interested in that but Steve doesn’t feel like elaborating about what got him out of the Corps so he just smiles lightly and looks at James straight in the eyes.

“Bad shit happens over there; my luck just ran out at some point,” Steve’s smile is definitely gone now. James looks like he kind of regrets being the cause of that but doesn’t add anything. “My whole unit and I, we were honorably discharged over a year ago. Some of us had been there for over fifteen years. You just gotta know how to stop at some point, y’know? What about you?”

“Got the shit blown out of me,” James answers, lifting his left hand and taking his glove off to show his metal fingers.

“Stark made this for you?” Steve asks, fascinated by the shiny metal. He doesn’t dare reaching out because he doesn’t want James to step away from him. So he just tears his eyes off the hand and looks James in the eyes and smiles softly.

“Yeah,” James responds so softly. He quickly looks at his hand before covering it with the glove again. He isn’t really ashamed of showing his arm, as long as he doesn’t have to show where the metal meets the flesh. It’s what makes him feel like anything but a human being. “Rogers, I – I wanted to ask if I could maybe, but know that you can say no, I mean – you don’t have to do it if it’s a pain in the ass, I don’t wanna –”

“Get to the point James, please,” Steve says, not looking away from the other man’s eyes. He gives him a little encouraging smile.

“Maybe we could get um, like a private session? My friend told me it was a thing that was possible and – yeah, would it be? Possible, I mean?” James looks so sheepish about asking something like that, it actually warms Steve’s heart a bit.

“Well, I actually wanted to talk to you about that. I think it would be a great idea. It can be hard opening up during group sessions, I know too well.” Steve says with a little shrug as he lets his eyes roam over James’s form.

“Thank you. I’m sorry if I was a dick, I don’t mean to, it’s natural,” James laughs a bit, “And call me Bucky, please. James is only for my father, my friend Natasha and my army superiors.”

“It’s no problem, really. And about being an asshole, I get it. I think we have a right to be, plus, all Marines are assholes,” Steve gives him one more smile before taking his phone out of his pocket, “Look, give me your number and we’ll figure something out for this week.”

Bucky gives him his own phone so Steve can put his number in it while Bucky puts his number in the other man’s phone. They part ways shortly after, promising each other to keep in touch in the next few days.

As soon as James gets home, he goes in his bedroom and call Natasha straight away. She doesn’t pick up so he doesn’t bother with a voice message because he knows that Natasha never listens to any of them and it’s just frustrating.  He knows she works a lot, knows the coffeehouse is working so well lately that Natasha doesn’t have a minute to herself. James keeps telling her that she need to get someone to help her, that she can’t just work every single day, all day, and not ask for help. She might have survived the army but honestly, James doesn’t know how long it will take for the business to drive her into the ground.

He decides to go sit at his piano to try and play something. He looks through his sheet music and finally finds something he wants to play. He places his fingers on the keys and starts playing. He’s actually pretty happy with the progress he’s made in the past few weeks. In the middle of his melody, his phone rings and Nat’s name flashes on the screen. He picks up and doesn’t let her say anything before he tells her all about the group session and his talk with Steve.

“Well James, this Steve guy seems great for you and I’m happy he agreed on the solo sessions, it’ll do you some good, I’m sure,” Natalia says laughing, “I gotta work though, so I’ll talk to you when I’m home.”

Nat hangs up and leaves Bucky to play the piano peacefully. He hasn’t felt this relaxed playing piano in seven years.  He plays for so long that at the end, he doesn’t even know what he’s playing. It’s a mix between something he knows he learned at some point in his life and something he’s coming up with as he goes. He plays for so long that he doesn’t even hear what he’s playing at some point. When he feels his left arm hurt from the overuse, he stops and lets his left arm fall to his lap. He runs the fingers of his right hand on the keys and smiles.

Maybe he isn’t happy yet but he knows that at some point, he will get there. He knows he won’t ever be the same person he used to be but he’s working on being a new person, a better person.

He finally gets up and goes to lay in bed with his laptop and puts a movie on. He isn’t really into it but he keeps it on so he isn’t in the deafening silence of his room. He lets his thoughts drift to the past few months how far he has actually come. When he thinks about it, he would have never spoken about himself a couple months back the way he did today. Never in the million years would he have talked about how he was feeling or what happened to him.

He feels safe in Steve presence though. Even if he acted like an asshole with the man, he always felt okay in his presence. And honestly, that’s something he doesn’t take for granted because he feels safe only with Natasha next to him.

So he has made progress, he really has. And even if he will never admit it to anyone, he’s damn proud of himself.

When he comes back to himself, the ending credits of the movie are rolling on the screen of his computer. He didn’t even follow the movie for one second so when Netflix suggests another movie, he doesn’t put it on because he knows he won’t watch it. James closes his computer and puts it aside for getting up to the kitchen to get food. Once he’s in the other room he takes his phone out of his pocket and decides to text Steve.

> Bucky B.: So, firefighter uh? That’s pretty hot, isn’t it?

Now, why in hell would he say that? ‘That’s pretty hot’ for real? Well, he _is_ right but that’s just really embarrassing, honestly.

> S.Rogers: Are you trying to flirt with me, Bucky Barnes?

Okay, but does Steve want him to be flirting with him? Bucky actually thinks it through for a minute before he decides on what to type back.

> Bucky B.: I would never, captain. So when are we havin this session?

He doesn’t want to seem eager but he actually really is. He likes Steve. He likes to see him and he likes to listen him talk. That’s why he kept going to the session even though he wasn’t talking. Steve just makes him feel at ease, which doesn’t happen much lately.

> S.Rogers:  Is the day after tomorrow fine for you? I have work tomorrow.  
>  Bucky B.: Ok for me. Where are we doin this?  
>  S.Rogers: VA if it’s okay?  
>  Bucky B.: Yeah, it’s fine. I’ll be there at 2pm, yeah?  
>  S.Rogers: Perfect, see you then :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm taking my time to put the story in place, so expect a slowburn. Maybe? I'm pretty bad at slowburns but I'm trying anyway!  
> Anyway, I hope you liked it. Please tell me what you think, good and bad  
> Find me on tumblr at udontwearmychains.tumblr.com


	4. Now I gotta just tell someone, tell someone what I’ve done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Steve have their first session together and they talk about tough things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter's title from Gasoline by Troye Sivan  
> I know i said I'd post this chapter quicker but I've been called into work a lot this past week plus I've had the chance to see my best friend who I haven't seen in months! So sorry!  
> Enjoy guys!  
> Sorry if there's any mistake in there!

Steve hasn’t been the luckiest person relationship-wise lately. He is well aware that since he broke up with his ex, Peggy, things haven’t been the best. He has had things here and there with people he definitely did not care about. The last three years haven’t been easy on him. He just hasn’t let himself be totally open with someone, _anyone_ , afraid his past would ruin it. He never thought that enlisting in the Marines he would end up so wounded. Not physically but mentally.

The military took so much away from him. It made him lose his girlfriend. It took away so much time he could have had with his mother. He would never get any of those back. He would never forgive himself for not being by his mom’s side when she most needed it. 

He would never forget himself for ruining his relationship with the only woman to ever fall in love with him. He knows he drove Peggy away. There isn’t a thing left to do about it now, though.

Now, he damn well knows that messing around with someone you work with is not a good idea at all but all Steve does is work, see his mom and go to the VA. So honestly, the only place he can get a man, or a lady for that matter, is at work. And maybe Rumlow wasn’t the best choice he could have made but he needed it at the time.

In the middle of his shift, he finds himself cornered by Brock in the shower room. He hates it. He knows Brock isn’t the kind of guy he wants to be associated with because, as good as a firefighter as he is, he’s a total asshole. When they started messing around, Steve was just looking for an outlet to let his anger out but lately, Steve just isn’t up for it. He doesn’t want to do anything with Brock anymore; he just doesn’t feel like having to deal with that.

“Wanna have some fun, babe?” Brock asks, getting closer to Steve and snaking his arm around the blond’s waist, “C’mon, Steve, I’ve been dying to get my hands on ya for weeks.”

“Not in the mood, Brock,” says Steve, trying to get away from the other man. “Let me go, now,” Steve sets his shoulder and looks at Brock sternly.

“Man, you’re no fun lately.”

“Fuck you,” Steve says angrily as he pushes Brock away, “I ain’t doing this anymore.”

He goes back to the locker room and gets changed before heading to the common room for lunch. Peter is behind the stove, like everyday day, and he is making food for everyone when the alarm blares above their heads. Only Truck and the ambulance are getting called so Squad finishes cooking lunch while they all run to the truck and get into their gear.

Steve goes to sit in the truck and they quickly take off. They drive for about five minutes until they get to the emergency. It’s a mildly serious car accident but there’s a woman trapped in the backseat of a car. They all get off the truck and the lieutenant goes to take a look around the car.

“Ok, Hill, get in there and see what’s going on! Rogers, stay close to her and make sure it doesn’t go to shit,” Rhodes tells his man. Maria and Steve both go to the car and he helps Hill to get into the car. While the woman assesses the situation, Steve just chats with the victim, trying to keep her awake and conscious.

Steve can see his colleagues get the other cars out of the way, making sure everyone is safe and no one is hurt. In the corner of his eye, he sees Jane taking care of a middle age man with a cut on his forehead and a bleeding nose.

When his attention turns back to Hill and the lady in the car, he can see his co-worker laying on the backseat, trying to free the victim.

“Rogers, her leg is trapped under the seat, we need to crack the roof open,” Maria yells to Steve from where she is in the car. Steve turns to look at his chief who just nods.

“Parker get the jaws and stay on Odinson’s hip, you guys are openin’ this up! Watch and learn kid! Maximoff, get the saw,” Fury orders to his men. They all do what they are told and run back to the car to get this woman out of there. Loki gets on the hood of the car, takes the saw from Pietro’s hands and cuts the roof. He gets Peter to hop on the hood with him and using the jaws, they fold the roof in half. Hill pushes the roof from where she is placed inside the car so they can push it further away for the backseat. Once the roof is totally off the car, they work around to take the seat off and free the victim’s leg.

As soon as the woman isn’t trapped anymore, Maria puts a collar around the girl’s neck before Steve and Rhodes slide her out of the car on a backboard. Darcy and Jane put her in the back of the ambulance before they drive off quickly. The rest of them stay there and put all the parts of the car away from the road and on the sidewalk. While Peter is brushing the glass off the road, Steve carries the piece of the roof with Rhodes and Loki as Pietro and Maria are putting all the equipment back in the truck.

They make it as fast as possible so that they don’t cut off the traffic for too long.

Half an hour later, they’re all back at the house, having lunch with the men from Squad. All of them talk about everything, about their side jobs and their family.

Steve thinks he really should get a job on the side because at the moment, he isn’t doing anything and it’s kind of driving him crazy, to just sit around his apartment and not doing anything. He thinks about going out around the neighborhood and ask around for little jobs, he might even ask Natasha if she needs help at the coffeehouse. Maybe he could work at an art gallery, or maybe he should give this _being-an-artist_ thing a real shot. All his fellow firefighters have another job, why shouldn’t he?

When he goes home the next morning he decides to actually go to Natasha’s and ask her. He’s got nothing to lose after all. Worst case scenario, she’ll just say she doesn’t need anyone to work around the shop.

He goes on his usual morning run around nine and when he’s done, he stops by the coffeehouse. They chat for a while, the morning rush having died down half an hour earlier.

Steve really likes Natasha. Every time they talk, he always feels like he can tell her everything, like she won’t ever judge him for what happened during his time. He could talk to her for hours. He did, actually, a while back. They stayed until closing and long after that, just talking and drinking from Nat’s secret stash of vodka from her motherland.

Talking to her feels so much like talking to Sam or even to Clint. It always feels so good to tell her how bad a shift was and look in her eyes and see nothing but understanding and support. In the months he has known her, he never felt anything but respect and love for the woman.

When the conversation dies down, a little over twenty minutes after Steve got to the coffee shop, he finally gets the balls to man up and ask Natasha about a job.

“So um, Nat. I was wondering if you – needed help around here?” asks Steve, feeling really nervous all of a sudden. He knows she’ll be nice about it, even if she declines his help. Natasha is always nice to him, she’s never, ever, been mean to him in the year he has known her. Why would she start now? “Cause I’m kinda looking for a little side job, you know, like a couple times a week or something. If it’s possible, of course.”

“Oh, well I don’t have anything for you _right now_ but as soon as something opens up, I’ll let you know,” Nat says with a big smile. She slides some food in Steve’s direction before putting her hand on his shoulder over the counter and she squeezes it a little. He gives her a little smile and she squeezes a bit harder before letting go. “How have you been doing Steve?”

“I’m uh, I’m fine,” he answers with a big smile on his face to hide his tiredness, “I mean, hasn’t been easy but it’ll be okay.”

“Hey, do you wanna hang around here for a bit? You could just sit and draw for a while, like you used to,” Natasha offers, sensing Steve isn’t as fine as he pretends to be. She knows what that look is, she’s seen it too many times in the eyes of her veterans friends. She’s sure she must have worn it once or twice.

Steve looks at the time on his phone and sighed, “I don’t have time today, I have to go down to the VA and see my mom. Some other time though, when I do have time. Thanks though, you’re the best Nat,” he says smiling.

They chat some more then Steve goes back to his place to take a shower. He gets dressed and decides to take his motorcycle out today because it’s really been a long while. He hops on and rides rapidly to the VA. Once he’s there, he parks his bike and goes in the building. He’s early but he decides to go to a small room and draw for a while before Bucky arrives for their session.

He doodles for a bit before he starts to sketch beautiful full lips, bright eyes and long curly hair. He hasn’t drawn her in so long it feels weird to see her face on paper again. He doesn’t even know why she still pops into his mind, he hasn’t even been thinking about her for a while, they haven’t even spoken since what happened, since it went _wrong_. Seeing her face like that makes him feel so nostalgic. He’s just lost in his thoughts when he hears the door open and close.

When he lifts his head from his sketchpad, the first thing he sees are Bucky’s eyes. They’re so bright and honest in this moment that Steve’s heart skips a beat just seeing him look like that.

James eyes always have so much to say, it’s disarming to Steve. He has never seen eyes this honest, this expressive and eloquent. He’s sure that even with no word, Bucky could say everything that is on his mind, everything that is bothering him.

Those are the kind of eyes Steve could look in for hours and not get bored.

“Hey,” James murmurs still looking in Steve’s eyes, “How are you?”

“Good. You?” Steve answers softly, smiling slightly at the other man.

“‘M okay.”

Steve nods at him and gestures to the chair next to him and James walks up to him and sits slowly. He is so nervous, he doesn’t know where to start, doesn’t know what to say. He’s scared that Steve is gonna look at him differently and honestly, seeing how Steve looks at him with so much hope, trust and just so much fascination and he would never want that look to go away because no one has ever looked at him that way. Not since his arm, not since _war_.

James looks at Steve, at his sketchbook and smiles a bit. He comments on how pretty his drawing looks and how talented he is. Steve just blushes and thanks him. He never knew how to take a compliment about his art. He has always seen himself as mediocre at best.

“Do you wanna start now, or do you need a moment?” Steve asks, trying to avoid Bucky’s eyes. He can see James struggle a bit and shuffle in his seat before looking up at Steve.

“Can we start slow, please? And um are – are you gonna talk too?” Bucky asks nervously, rubbing his hands against his legs to try and get his right hand to just stop sweating so damn much. His eyes are still fixated on his knees and he sighs.

“If you want me to, of course,” Steve says smiling softly and putting his hand on James’s right shoulder, “Take your time okay, we can just chat for a while, if it’s easier for you,” he squeezes the other man’s shoulder and give him a subtle nod to encourage him a little. Bucky finally lifts his eyes to meet Steve’s and smiles a little.

“Yeah. Yeah that’d be great,” Bucky says looking at Steve’s hand on his shoulder and grins slightly before letting out a breath. Steve quickly retracts his hand and looks down shyly. He blushes lightly, avoiding Bucky’s eyes once again. Once he looks back up, Bucky is just staring at him, a little smirk playing on his lips. Steve gestures to him to start whenever and Bucky nods and lets all the air in his lungs out and opens his mouth softly. “Who’s she? The girl you drew?”

Steve didn’t expect that question. He looks at James with a little surprise in his eyes before looking at the drawing still on display next to him. He stares at it for a bit then looks down at his knees. “She’s um – she’s just someone I used to know,” Steve says feeling uneasy about talking about this person. He hasn’t talked about her in years, to anyone.

“Why did you decide to go to the army?” Bucky asks, deciding to change the subject seeing how unsettled it made Steve to answer that first question. He doesn’t know the guy after all; he has no right to ask anything personal about the other man. He’s here to talk about the army so it’s what he’ll talk about and that’s all he’s going to ask of the man in front of him. Because that’s all he is entitled to know about him.

“D’you want the long version or the short version?” Steve asks with a little chuckle, looking gently at Bucky.

“Long,” Bucky says questioningly with a hopeful look in his eyes. “If you don’t mind,” he adds, sheepishly. He doesn’t want to push it, he knows he will have to talk at one point but the more time he can buy and the more he can hear Steve talk, the better it will make him feel.

“Growing up, all I wanted to be was a firefighter. It was such a big dream of mine but I thought it was just a stupid childhood dream seeing how I was. At some point, I actually could go to the fire academy and make it come true,” Steve is retelling this with a small nostalgic smile on his face. He hasn’t told anyone this in a long time and it feels oddly nice if he’s totally honest. “But even if I passed all the physical tests, I medically couldn’t enter the fire department. I was so fucking desperate, it was my dream, you know. I was hopeless, I didn’t know what to do. And then my mother got really sick,” Steve’s smile is now gone and he can feel the tears coming to his eyes just thinking about his mother.

“She already was when I went to the academy, but it got so much worse. My mom was my everything, y’know. She still is. But the medical expenses were so high and I had no job so I had to find a way to get her the money that she needed. So the only rational thought I had was ‘what if I go to war’ which, evidently wasn’t that rational but, yeah. But my dad used to be a Marine you know, so I thought I could do it too, be just like my dad, and be _brave_ like he was. I enlisted and shipped out a couple months later, just before my twenty-first birthday. Man, I couldn’t even get drunk before going to get my ass shot in Iraq,” Steve tries to laugh a little to lighten the mood but honestly, he could cut the tension with a _fucking_ knife in here. Looking at Bucky’s face, his eyes soften. “Wanna talk or do you want me to continue?”

Bucky looks at him for a second, taking in everything Steve just said and nodding. He doesn’t know what to tell the other man, he doesn’t know how to react. So he just looks at him and doesn’t say a single word. After what feels like at least five long minutes, he finally looks away and nods to himself before opening his mouth.

“I was twenty one, I was in a fuckin’ good college on a sports scholarship. I played soccer for as long I as can remember, whether it was when I was a kid in Brooklyn or a teen in Russia. Then I got injured. It took a while for me to recover but when I did, they said I couldn’t play anymore. They said I was done, that I’d blow my knee for good if I kept playing on it. I was in such a bad place and my heart was in pieces. It’s so goddamn cliché to say but I just wanted to go do something that could hurt me more than it was hurting me,” Bucky says in a voice that oddly resembles a whimper. “So I decided to become a Marine and go defend my fucking country or something. And I was good at it, I was so _good_. But I was so stupid, so reckless and I got so many people killed, Steve. There’s no going back on that. And I don’t even know if I regret going there at all or if I wish I’d still be there but I do regret it ending like that.

“I didn’t wanna come home; I had nowhere, nothing, to come _home_ to. I didn’t really have a home; I had been living between New York and Moscow for my whole life so I didn’t know where to go you know. But they didn’t ask me though, I didn’t have a choice. It wasn’t up to me anymore and there wasn’t any getting better. I’d lost my arm; there was no way I’d get it back. And all my friends, they think I woke up with that thing”, Bucky says, gesturing to his left arm, where Steve can see the metal shining where his glove meets the sleeve of his hoodie. A frown appeared on Bucky’s face. “But I woke up before; I saw what it was like before they made me this arm. Stark needed my consent and I was so weak, I couldn’t take it. I just said yes without thinking but then I panicked like crazy and they had to actually put me to sleep. And the next time I woke up, I had a metal arm y’know and I freaked out but my best friend was next to me and she’s the only reason I didn’t lose my mind.”

Steve just listens quietly, nodding when he feels like it’s appropriate, giving the other man a small smile from time to time. When Bucky stops speaking, it takes Steve a couple of seconds to realize the dark haired man isn’t going to add anything more. Once he’s sure Bucky isn’t gonna speak up again, he thanks him. He actually thanks Bucky for opening up and talking about this. He tells him he understands the feeling of needing another kind of pain, he gets how it feels to feel responsible about people’s death, responsible for the pain he caused by having to tell their families. However, he tells him that there’s no way he’ll ever understand how it’d feel to wake up in a hospital with a different limb – one made out of metal.

Bucky tells him how he freaked out every time his arm wouldn’t do what he wanted it to. How he went crazy when Stark finally gave him his feelings back, how it felt to _feel_ things for the first time again. He tells him about all the panic attacks he had the first months after he was out of the hospital, how he wasn’t able to leave the house, how he couldn’t sleep for weeks, how he didn’t eat for days at a time because he couldn’t keep anything down. And Steve tries to make him understand that it’s normal to struggle with sleep, food and the outside world. He tells him that when he came home, he couldn’t be alone for more than a few hours because if he was, he’d sit in a corner, his back to the wall, and wouldn’t get up for so long that sometimes, Clint would come in and find him crying, whimpering and rocking against the wall.

Steve doesn’t mention that it still happens to him though; he will never say it to anyone because he needs everyone to think he’s the strong one because if he isn’t, no one else will be.

They don’t talk about heavier things than that yet because Steve wants to ease into it. He doesn’t want Bucky to be freaked out about this, he doesn’t want the other man to suddenly close up because this is too much for him. That’s why after an hour, they stop talking about whatever they went through while they were overseas.

“So how come you’re a firefighter now?” Bucky asks trying to talk about lighter and nicer things after the talk they just had.

“Ha, well, the war did do me some good I guess. My body got way stronger in almost ten years, so when I came home and felt good again, I took the test again and succeeded. I was a candidate for a few months and they quickly had an opening so I got promoted to a permanent spot on Truck. And it’s great, it’s so great,” Steve sighs with a smile on his face. Talking about his job is something he loves to do because he just enjoys his job so much that he’d talk about it for hours on end.

Bucky asks him to tell him funny little stories about the firehouse and pranks they pulled on each other. He tells Bucky about the worst prank they pulled on him when he was a candidate and it gets the man laughing so hard that Steve can’t help but to join in. Bucky’s laugh is the nicest sound he’s heard in such a long time, he hasn’t felt like that since he was with _her_.

“Man, thank you for this. Done me a lotta good, really,” Bucky says, clapping Steve on his shoulder. “Can we do this again next week?” the man asks shyly, looking at Steve’s face sheepishly.

“Yeah, sure! Same time next week would be perfect,” Steve says smiling.

“Great, so I’ll uh – I’ll see ya,” Bucky says before leaving the room slower than he’s done it before. For once, he doesn’t feel the need to run away from Steve. He feels better than he has felt in months, hell, maybe even years if he’s being totally honest with himself.

Bucky drives home slowly, taking the time to enjoy the music playing on the radio. Once he pulls up in front of his building he decides to go see Natasha for a while. He feels like they haven’t spent time together for so long and he misses his best friend, even though they live together.

He steps into the shop and the first thing he sees is red hair moving around the room, going from table to table, picking things up, serving plates to the customers. He smiles softly at the sight of his friend.  He goes up to the counter and waits for her to finish up at the other side of the room.

“Hey James, how you doin’?”  Nat asks leaning on the counter in front of him. “How d’it go at the VA?” she smiles at him tenderly, softly squeezing his right hand.

“It was good. Steve is great,” he says smiling gingerly, “he’s really helpful, I’m glad I did it.”

“Oh James, I’m happy for you,” Natasha responds by pulling him in an awkward hug over the counter and says in his ear, “if your Steve is Captain Rogers, you’re in good fucking hands, sweetie.”

Bucky’s eyes suddenly bulge out and he pulls away more quickly than he thinks possible. He stares at Nat for a second and the woman is just looking smugly at him with an enormous smirk on her face. He had no idea she knew Steve, she never mentioned him before today. They look at each other for a few minutes before Bucky finds it in himself to speak up.

“How d’you –” Bucky starts but stops, not knowing what to say.

“Met him when I went to the VA a few months ago. We were in the same group for a while. Then he started coming here almost every day since I opened,” Natasha says with a small smile on her lips, remembering the first time she saw Steve walk through the doors of the coffee house all those months ago. “I knew you’d like him,” she adds with a shrug.

After that they don’t speak of Steve again, they let the subject drop. For now. Because Bucky wants to know what is going on there. He does ask Natasha to not tell Steve they know each other just because he doesn’t want Steve to see him as Nat’s friend and not just _Bucky_.

He knows it’s stupid, as they don’t even know each other yet. But James as that weird aversion to people he _talks_ to knowing the people he’s really close to. He has always been that way, even as a teenager. He needed to talk to people who didn’t have any connection to his day to day life.

As soon as he steps into the elevator taking him up to his mom, Steve starts to panic.

He hasn’t been here as much as he should have and he knows it. But most days, he can’t bring himself to leave the safety of his home to face the heartbreaking reality.

His mom is dying.

He knocks softly on the door as soon as he gets in front of it, telling himself that if he takes a second to compose himself, he’ll turn away and go lock himself in his room and paint until he can’t anymore. Even though it does sound like a good alternative, he needs to talk to his mother.

Sometimes, he wonders who he will be able to talk to when his mom leaves. It has been just the two of them for so long now, he doesn’t know who he’ll turn to in times of need. His mother, Sarah, is an only child and she lost her parents when she was pretty young and Steve hasn’t spoken to his father’s family in more than a decade.

He’s going to be alone at some point and he’s scared shitless just thinking about it. His mom has always been there for him. Even after a fight, no matter how nasty, she would be there in a second if he needed.

Once he enters the room, he feels relieved to see an enormous smile on the woman’s face. This is a good day. He hates the bad days and they are more and more frequent, unfortunately.

Steve leans to kiss her cheek and sits on the uncomfortable chair next to his mother’s bed. He doesn’t know where to look, what to say or do. He’s at loss and he hates being this way around his own goddamn mother.

As soon as his eyes land on his mom’s face, Steve bursts into tears. He tries to keep them in, tries to be strong in front of the woman who gave him life and raised him with everything she had.

The man’s head falls onto his mom’s stomach and when she runs her fingers through his hair, he sobs even harder. He can hear his mother murmur soothing words to him, trying to calm him down but nothing works. All Steve can do is cry more and more and whimper at some of the things Sarah is saying to him.

“What’s going on Steven?” the woman asks softly, scratching her nails on her son’s head. “I haven’t seen you cry like that since – what happened honey?”

Steve doesn’t even know what to say. He has no clue what is wrong with him, he has been feeling so damn exhausted and empty lately but has no idea why. His nightmares have been so powerful and painful that he hasn’t been sleeping much, if at all, when he isn’t at the firehouse.

The paintings in his apartment have been hard to store for a while already, the space getting more and more cramp.

“Just haven’t been sleeping much, is all,” Steve says after a few minutes, his tears have finally stopped. He looks up at his mom with a soft smile, that both of them know is fake but still try to believe in, and squeezes her hand softly. “Nothing to worry about, I’ll be fine in a couple days.”

“You need to take care of yourself, baby, you can’t go on like this,” she tells him softly, handing him a cup of water.

“I need to take care of you first, ma, like you did with me, when _I_ was sick.”

None of them say a word after that, knowing it’s only the sad truth.

A few minutes later, the conversation starts up again but they talk about lighter things, happier things. They trade memories of when Steve was a child, of his dad, of their life together, the three of them.

They don’t talk for long though, because soon enough, Sarah starts to get tired, like she always does when she talks and gestures a lot. It is part of the cancer, Steve guesses. It is part of the fact that she’s weakened by treatments and painkillers and whatever else they give her.

It doesn’t make it easier when he leaves though. It never makes any of this easier.

As Steve gets up and kisses his sleeping mom’s forehead, he knows it will take a while until he gathers the strength to come back soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on Tumblr at udontwearmychains.tumblr.com


	5. Whatever this is it doesn't get easier (so take it slow)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter's title from (UN)Lost by The Maine  
> I hope all of you will enjoy this chapter! I'm sorry for any mistakes, I wrote most of this at three a.m  
> Let me know what you think  
> Warning : there's a few paragraphes where Bucky is dreaming about war, be cautious while reading if that kind of things triggers you

Bucky has been feeling better lately, he really has. Even if he still has trouble sleeping most nights or wakes up crying from nightmares in the middle of the night, he feels much better.

It isn’t perfect, maybe it never will be, but he’s glad of the progress he has made in the weeks he has been seeing Steve. He really hopes that one day he will be able to go one day with no flashback, no nightmare or no freak-out. Bucky hopes he will get to live a normal life, even if it’s just for one day.

After a couple of sessions with Steve, he was really starting to open up about what happened to him, about what he has done and what he has seen. I wasn’t easy to talk about but it was necessary.

Natasha has been really supportive, always pushing him to get up to go to the sessions that they now agreed on having twice a week.

Bucky’s friend decided a few days ago that the man needs to stop being alone all the time. And if he refuses to go out and see people, then Natasha is going to get him a stay-at-home friend. She is _so_ getting him a puppy.

That’s how on Saturday, when he comes home from his session with Steve, he finds a big black, white and rust ball of fur. The puppy raises its head at the sound of someone else entering the room before getting up and trotting to Bucky. The little animal rises itself on its back legs and rests its front legs on Bucky’s. The man crouches down and scratches the puppy between its ears. He looks up at Natasha who is looking at them with a soft smile on her face.

“Hey, whose dog s’this?” Bucky asks, still petting the dog next to him. He can feel the dog lightly biting his left arm and he smiles at the dog’s confused little face when its teeth bite down on nothing but metal.

“Well, James, _she_ is yours,” Natasha says, coming up to sit herself on the floor next to her friend and starts petting the dog.

James’s head snaps up and he looks at his best friend with a surprised look on his face. He can’t believe it. He looks between the dog and Natasha like it isn’t true, like she is just kidding. She softly smiles at Bucky and puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Look, I just – I don’t want you to be alone all the damn time,” Natasha says, squeezing his shoulder a little. “You won’t go out and see people. So at least that’ll take some of your time! And you’ll have company,” she adds, smiling.

“I love you,” James says looking down at the dog.

After that, Natasha goes back to work and leaves Bucky with the dog so they can get acquainted. James just sits on the floor for an hour to play with the puppy then he goes to sit on the couch when she falls asleep on his lap. They lie there for half an hour before the dog wakes up and start to get restless. Bucky decides to take her out to the park and let her have a run.

Once the puppy has her collar on, Bucky clips the leash on and they leave the apartment. When they arrive to the park, James starts running around with her so she can exercise a bit. He finds a branch and he throws it each time the puppy brings it back. After a while they walk back home and both of them go in James’s bed. Once he is lying down, he looks at the dog curled up on his stomach and he smiles softly.

“Imma need to find you a name, ain’t I?” he says petting the dog’s back. The dog looks at him and cocks her head to the side looking at Bucky. He says a lot of random dog names he has heard over the years but the puppy doesn’t respond to any of them. “What about Winter, how d’you like that?”

The dog cocks her head some more and barks a little, shuffling slowly up Bucky’s body to lick his face. A little laugh escapes his lips and he nods to himself, scratching the puppy’s head. He decides that Winter is a good name for the big Bernese mountain dog. He hugs the puppy and smiles. He has always loved dogs. He used to have one when he was a young teenager but the old dog is now with Bucky’s parents. He could see him again, if he wanted to, if only he had the balls to go see his parents in Russia.

His parents know he got hurt in Afghanistan, they just don’t know how badly and they don’t know the way he is today. He couldn’t bear the way they would look at him and he still can’t think of telling them. So he never told them and he hasn’t seen them in three years.

His sister though, he knows she knows.

They haven’t seen each other in a while but Bucky knows she was at his side the whole time he was under, while he was in the hospital. They text once in a while, never talking about serious issues like Bucky’s health or the fact that he won’t speak to their parents about whatever he went through.

Bucky knows Natasha calls her once a week to update her about Bucky’s state. He doesn’t really care if he’s being honest. He wants Rebecca to know how he’s doing, what progress he’s making with his recovery and honestly, he wants his sister to know everything he will never be able to tell her himself.

Growing up, everything Bucky thought about was protecting his little sister. He always wanted to make sure she never got hurt or never thought she wasn’t love, not like he did. Being a big brother was his only job and he was hell-bent on succeeding at it.

When Rebecca was born, Bucky was nine years old. Thinking back on it now, he realizes he never felt love so strong than when he got to hold his sleeping baby sister in his arms. He never believed in a higher power until she opened her big blue eyes and looked straight in Bucky’s own. He never wanted to protect anyone more than he wanted to protect his little sister the first time she came to him with blood on her knees and tears on her face.

He had been eleven then. His sister was barely two years old and she had been running around his room and tripped on a toy before tumbling down on her knees and scratching them pretty badly. He picked her up and went to the bathroom to clean the wounds, superficial as they might be. In that moment, he knew he never wanted to see that look ever again and he’s do everything in his power to prevent it.

When he left Russia, the summer before he was to start studying in New York, all he could think about was his little sister, alone in Moscow with their parents, _without him_. At the age of only nine years old, she was stronger than Bucky ever was when he was that young.

“Don’t worry Bucky, I will be fine with mom and dad,” she said, her eyes big and shiny with unshed tears. He didn’t say anything just hugged her while he kissed his sister’s little face, tears in his own eyes.

He missed everything though. He missed her growing up and becoming the young woman she now is. At the age of twenty, Rebecca is studying in Moscow, now in her third year, on track to becoming an interpreter in Russian, English and French.

He missed her falling in love, getting her heartbroken for the first time – even though he’s quite happy about that – and missed her graduation a few years ago.

Bucky is well aware that she doesn’t blame him. That there wasn’t one second where she was mad that he left to pursue his own dreams nor when he decided to enroll in the army when she was only twelve.

“You’ll be fine Bucky, just be careful please?” was all she said when he announced he was joining the US Marines to his family.

Maybe she hated him for longer than a second the day Natasha called him to tell her what had happened to Bucky. She was on a plane three hours later though. She spent the end of her summer at his side and when school started again, a few weeks later, she made a deal with school that she would be present for her exams but that she needed to take time off and that she would be studying from her home for a few months. Rebecca being one of their top students, she was granted authorization to study in New York until her finals in January.

She didn’t need that much time because a couple of months later, Bucky was waking up and she decided that if he wanted her there, he would ask.

And he didn’t. So she stayed away, said she was fine with having him calling once or twice a month, said she didn’t need more.

If she was anything like her brother, she was telling the truth.

James is ripped from his memory by Winter nuzzling his neck and whimpering to get his attention.  He laughs softly, petting her delicately on the back. They both settle back on the bed comfortably when Bucky starts to feel the exhaustion take over. He softly closes his eyes and continues to pet the dog before he falls asleep with Winter on his chest.

_James is in the middle of the desert again. He is with Natasha and another man from their unit, Private Aaron Collins. He doesn’t know what’s happening but the three of them are in a building, hiding from the guns that they know are pointed at them. They can hear people moving outside and Bucky and Natasha look at each other, nodding quickly. Bucky grabs his sniper riffle and puts it at the corner of the window sill. He looks through his gunsight and shoots the first armed man he sees. Some other people start shooting at him but James shoots them before he can be shot; he manages to take a couple of other men down._

_Before he can shoot the last man he can see, Private Collins, who was crouched down next to Natasha, jumps up and tries to shoot the enemy. Bucky tries to stop him, tries to push him out of the way but the bullet just goes straight through James’s side and into Collins’s stomach. Bucky quickly pulls the trigger, screaming at Nat to put pressure on the Private’s wound and stop the bleeding. Once all the shooting stops, James lets himself fall next to Natasha and puts his hands above hers to push on Collins’s stomach. He radios the rest of the unit, telling them to send a medic or anything, to take care of the man’s injury because Bucky just doesn’t have what he needs._

_He looks out the broken window and sees two people from his team coming and whistles to them so they know their location. They guys look up and nod before running to the building. As they are about to step in the building, Bucky can see something flying through the air and it lands on his men. Bucky cannot do anything else but look at his men being blown up._

_James turns to Natasha and she tells him something but he doesn’t hear it, he just picks his man up and run out of the building with Nat right behind him. As he steps out of the building, he can see his men. Or parts of them._

_He tries to look away but he just can’t. He tries to put his men back together with his mind but he can’t, they’re everywhere. And it’s his fault. Fuck, it’s his entire fault. He’s the one who called them when he could have done it without their help. He was trained for this. He killed his men. He did this to them._

Bucky startles awake when he hears the door of the apartment close. Winter is softly licking his face trying to make him look at her and when Bucky finally does, she cocks her head to the side and whimpers a bit. He wipes the sweat from his forehead and hugs the puppy closer, hearing Natasha come to his bedroom.

She pops her head through the doorway and smiles at her best friend when she sees him lying with the puppy close to his chest.

“So you finally got yourself a girl, uh?” Natalia asks with a smug smile on her face. James just throws a pillow at her head, giving her the finger. “So what’s this baby’s name?” she says, coming to sit next to the man and pet the dog.

“Winter. I named her Winter,” James answers with a smile.

“Are you for real, James? You basically named the dog after yourself?” Nat says laughing a bit, stroking Bucky’s hair. The man lets out a little moan and pushes against his friend’s hand to get more of this. He smiles softly when she continues to touch his hair, dragging her nails across his skull softly.

“Fuck off, she likes it. Look,” Bucky says, looking down at the puppy, smiling a bit. “Winter,” the man calls and the dog’s head lifts from where it lies on his chest and she comes up to lick his face a little. He then turns to Nat, lifting his eyebrows in a way that says _‘see, told you’_ which makes her chuckle a bit.

“I guess it’s fitting,” she says smiling and petting the dog. “How did it go with Steve earlier by the way? What did you guys talked about?” she asks stroking her best friend’s hair a little. She softly smiles at him, trying to encourage him to talk.

“About my memories comin’ back to me. We talked about the last thing I remember before the accident. Wasn’t that bad to be honest,” Bucky answers smiling a little.

“Seen him this morning. He comes around the coffee shop quite a lot, you should come down when he’s there, too,” Natasha is smirking.

Bucky doesn’t answer. He doesn’t really know what to say to be honest. He would like to see Steve more but Natasha’s coffeehouse is a place he doesn’t like to go. It’s a place that reminds him of everything he can’t do yet and might never be able to do again. So he won’t go see Steve there. Not for a while anyway.

They stay in Bucky’s bed for a while, just lying in bed and talking while they are petting the dog. They linger that way for a long time until Bucky’s stomach starts to rumble a bit. They move to the kitchen to have some dinner and feed the puppy, too.

They don’t talk much while they eat. There isn’t much to be said honestly. If they talk, it’s just chit-chat about useless stuff, about the weather, about work, Bucky’s health but nothing really serious. Bucky wants to ask about his sister, wants to know how she is because he heard Natasha on the phone with her last night. But he keeps his mouth shut, doesn’t say a word because he knows Nat will only tell him to call her himself.

He isn’t ready though. They haven’t talked in a few weeks but Bucky doesn’t want to be in a bad headspace when he finally speaks to her. He doesn’t want her to worry more than she already does. So he will call soon, just not now.

After dinner, they stay in the living room for a bit, watching a movie quietly. In the middle of the film, Bucky suddenly starts to think about Steve. The other man has been so good to him in the past few weeks, he has helped him live with what he has done and he helps him with his memories. It has been so hard for him to open up since he left the Marines and now, he can’t believe he actually looks forward to talk to Steve about his shit.

Even before the army, Bucky was never good with talking about his feelings. Was never good at talking about what is bothering him or what he’s thinking. He has always been a quiet kid, even with his friends. Even with Nat, who he has known for so long. They don’t talk about how they met, they never do. But they don’t forget how it happened, how they were feeling that first day Bucky saw Nat.

Sometimes, Bucky wishes they would talk about it. But he knows that Natasha isn’t ready to, just like himself he guesses.

When he looks down at his lap and sees Winter sleeping, he smiles broadly and takes a quick picture before texting it to Steve, captioning it with a ‘got a present today’ with a bunch of smiling emojis. He gets a response pretty quickly. 

> Steve: Dude, you need to come by the firehouse with this dog, everyone will love you!

For a second, Bucky hesitates to answer ‘will you?’ but he doesn’t wanna be weird. He considers what to say for a second before he replies to Steve.

> Bucky: Might come by on Monday, that okay?  
>  Steve: Can’t wait to see you

It doesn’t help Bucky. It only makes him think of Steve harder. He makes him feel so good and so _right_. He hasn’t felt that in years. And it’s weird, honestly he doesn’t know what to do with all that but he tells himself it’s just a stupid crush on the first person who gives him attention that isn’t Natasha. The first person to make him feel like his feelings _matter_.

Steve is smiling dumbly at his phone before panic starts coiling in his throat. Why did he say that to Bucky? Damn, why is he so fucking stupid? After all, the two men aren’t that close of friends. They see each other a couple times a week; they aren’t the best friends in the world. Even though Steve wishes he could get to see the other man more often and outside the VA; that’s why he asked him to come to the firehouse.

He startles out of his thoughts when there’s a loud knock on his door. He gets up and sees Clint standing on the other side of the threshold. The man has a smile on his face and is holding two plastic bags in his hands that Steve guesses contain Chinese food. Steve lets him in quickly, gesturing for his friend to go sit on the couch while he goes in the kitchen to grab a couple of beers. He comes back to sit on the couch next to his friend and immediately takes a box of chicken noodles and shoves half of it in his mouth. Clint laughs a bit and does the same. They watch a rerun of Friends, laughing when it’s necessary but they are mostly silent.

When most of the food is gone and they drank three beers each, Clint turns to Steve with a smile on his face.

“So, I might have met this girl,” Clint says still looking at Steve, wanting to see his friend’s reaction. Steve’s eyes widen suddenly and he makes a surprised little noise in his throat.

“What? Really? Dude, this is great! I’m so glad for you,” Steve says in such an excited voice that Clint can’t help the smile that spreads across his face. He’s so damn lucky to have Steve as his best friend, he couldn’t ask for someone better. “Didn’t think you were ready quite yet, I’m real happy!”

Steve knows how hard it has been for Clint to open up to anyone romantically in the past four years.

When Steve met Clint, the year he joined the army, the man was happily engaged to this great girl named Kate. A year later when their tour ended, he was married. That was the first time Steve met Kate, when Clint asked him to be his best man at his wedding. Steve was barely twenty- two at the time and he felt like he had found the best friend he’d ever have.

By the time his friend was twenty-six, over a year into their marriage, his wife was pregnant with their first child. Clint was told a couple of months after being back overseas but it didn’t change the fact that he was the happiest man in the world. Nine months later, Clint had the most beautiful son Steve had ever seen. He missed the birth, being deployed at the Syrian border at the time but as soon as they were granted leave for a couple of months, Clint dragged Steve home with him. Once they were with Kate, Clint asked his best man, Steve, to be Cooper’s godfather.

The year Steve became Captain, Clint lost everything. His wife and two and a half year old kid died in a car accident just before the end of his tour. He was granted leave and after he mourned his family like he had to, for almost two years, he came back to Steve’s unit and did everything he could to occupy himself so he wouldn’t feel the overwhelming pain of his wife and son’s death.

That’s also part of the reason Clint came back to Brooklyn with Steve. He didn’t want his friend to be alone because he knew that he wasn’t over it, not at all.

At the end of that last tour, Clint was relieved from active duty, along with almost every man of his unit. Steve was discharged, due to the injuries sustained during their last mission. He still has the scars to remind him, some hidden under layers of ink across the skin of his torso and shoulders.

He doesn’t show off his tattoos very often, the only people knowing he has that much are Sam, Clint and the people at the firehouse. He has had tattoos for a long time, starting on the artwork when he was in just eighteen and fresh out of high school.

He got inked in the army, along with most of his fellow soldiers, one drunken night while they were on leave in Quantico. He never really stopped since then. He got most of his ink in the last couple of years to cover the scars he’s got.

Clint and Steve don’t talk about what happened to Kate and Cooper, ever. But Steve knows that Clint would talk about it when he would be ready, when he would need to. And he is so relieved that his friend is finally ready to get back out there and actually see people instead of staying in and mourn his family – even if he has every right to do _just_ that.

“Didn’t think I was either, to be honest. But she’s great and I’m sick of being the sad dude, y’know?” Clint says with a shrug. He knows Steve understands because he knows the other man isn’t quite ready to get into another relationship after how his last one ended. He sometimes wishes Steve would open up about his ex because he was so damn heartbroken when their last tour began.

“Steve, you know you need to get back on the horse at some point?” Clint says looking at his friend with _that_ look in his eyes. “I mean it’s been nearly three years since Peggy. I know she broke your heart but man, don’t let her ruin your whole life.”

Clint knows how hurt he was when Peggy left. The two men might not have been in the same city at the time but he was the first person Steve called when it happened. He cried on the phone for a long while but he felt kind of selfish disturbing Clint during his time of mourning, the first time the older man had the chance to see his wife and kid’s grave since the funeral a year earlier.

They don’t mention it often but while listening to Steve’s heart breaking, Clint started crying too. They stayed on the phone for another hour, two grown men crying like babies over their broken hearts. But it was okay to feel, okay to hurt, it only makes them human.

“Just because I ain’t dating anyone doesn’t mean I ain’t getting any. I’m getting plenty, thank you for your concern,” Steve says with a small smile playing on his lips.

“I ain’t talking about you fucking that douchebag from rescue squad, you idiot,” Clint says, slapping Steve on the chest, laughing softly. “I’m talking about being with someone who’s gonna get you. Someone who’s gonna wanna be with you.” Clint just looks into his eyes, softly squeezing his shoulder.

Steve drops his eyes to his lap and just looks at his hands, sitting there. He knows he has to start dating again at some point but he just doesn’t want to get hurt like last time. He doesn’t want to feel like that ever again.

“Look, Clint, I appreciate it, I do. I’m just not sure anyone wants to deal with my baggage,” Steve says, his voice so low he isn’t sure if Clint even hears him. “I need to get my shit mostly together before I ask anyone else to deal with it with me.”

Clint just nods, understanding his friend. He knows what it’s like to have so much baggage that you think no one will ever be willing to carry all of it with you. And he knows he doesn’t want someone who is just gonna take part of it and leave the rest, not willing to take care of it all.

And Steve appreciates it so much. He knows Clint doesn’t have to ask to know because he has been the same for years. And it took him so long but now that he’s finally there, it feels amazing. Letting himself feel is the best thing he could ask for.

“Who’s the lucky lady anyway?” Steve asks, finally looking back at Clint with a small, timid smile on his face.

“Nat, from the coffeehouse you took me to a few months ago,” Clint answers with a big, goofy grin on his face. He seems so happy just thinking about her. It’s so adorable that Steve can’t help but smile a little at his best friend.

“Dude, really? How long has this been goin’ on?” Steve asks with a surprised but happy tone.

“A couple months I guess. It was really casual in the beginning but I think I’m really falling for her,” the older man said, looking sheepishly at his hands but still smiling broadly.

“You look happy. She’s great, by the way,” the blond said, bumping his shoulder against Clint’s, laughing a little.

He suddenly thinks about the people in his life that could understand him in a way that Peggy never could. He thinks of the people that would be able to handle his past, his demons and his sleepless nights.

His mind goes straight to Bucky. And this is weird to him, because he’s never thought of Bucky that way. Even if he has always found the brunet attractive, he has never seen him as someone he could _be_ with.

Bucky is still lost in his thoughts about Steve. It makes him feel so weird to imagine scenarios with Steve in his head. He’s taken out of his thoughts by a jab in his ribs.

“Are you listening to me, James?” Natalia says, looking at Bucky with a little worried look on her face. She frowns when she sees her friend jump in surprise. “You okay?”

“Yeah, m’fine, sorry! What were you saying?”

“Nah, we can talk about it later, it’s fine,” she answers, smiling softly at the man next to her. “If you wanna talk about whatever is bothering you, I’m right here.”

“It’s no big deal, really. What’s up with you?” Bucky asks, smiling softly at his best friend. He knows when Nat is in need of a talk and the look she has in her eyes right now, that’s the look she had the first time Bucky realized she was his best friend and that he was hers.

He has always known that Natasha would be a great friend. The day they met, he knew he could trust her with his life and afterwards, he realized he would give his life for her. That’s something he would do for two people right now, her and his sister.

Natasha told him once, in the middle of the night in Iraq, that she thought they were soulmates. Not the romantic bullshit they try to sell you in books and movies but the real kind of soulmates. Two people being so connected and so complete when they are with one another that nothing would feel right without the other. She told him they would find each other through life and through death, always.

They would never be apart, not really.

That night, Bucky told her that he had never been in love in his whole life but if loving someone romantically was anything like loving her, then he wished to feel it one day.

“I think it’s gettin’ pretty serious with that guy I’ve been seein’,” Nat announces. She looks weirded out by her own statement which Bucky guesses is normal because Natasha has never been in a serious relationship, she’s never found the right person to settle down with. Bucky can’t help but relate to that.

“That’s great Tasha,” Bucky says with a smile. He throws his right arm around the girl’s shoulder and pulls her to his side. He kisses the top of her head then lets her lean there. “Took you long enough!”

“Fuck you asshole, you’re no better,” she tells him. She knows James has a really hard time opening up to people since his accident.

James is so self-conscious these days, sometimes Natasha just wants to shake him out of it and tell him how great he really his and how much love he deserves. But she never does it because she wants him to realize it by himself.

Natasha knows that she and Tony are the only people to have ever seen him shirtless in the past year or so. He hates to show his scars to people, he’s scared they will judge him or be scared of him for whatever reason Bucky made up in his head. After all this time, he still thinks his scars make him something less than human.

Bucky realized that if he couldn’t ever be loved again, being loved by Natasha, even now, even being the person that he is, he would be sure to die happy because she is enough. Her presence, her support, her love, would always be _enough_.

“I’m good on my own,” Bucky states, looking down at his left hand resting on his knee. Being alone is the only thing he’s in control of right now, he doesn’t need to burden anyone else other than his best friend. He needs more time to get to be okay with his new body and, most importantly, be okay with someone else seeing it.

He knows it is going to be a long ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on tumblr at udontwearmychains.tumblr.com


	6. So what if you can see the darkest side of me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Animal I Have Become by Three Days Grace  
> I wanna thank everyone who's left comments and kudos, thank you so much, it means so much! You guys are the sweetest  
> I apologize for any mistakes  
> Enjoy

As soon as he gets to the firehouse, Steve can feel the cold leave his body and be replaced by the heat from the inside of the house. He doesn’t really care though because all Steve can think about is Bucky and the fact that he might come by today just to see him.

Honestly, Steve doesn’t know what he was thinking last night but seeing Bucky’s face so calm and happy with a goddamn dog on his chest on this damn picture, Steve just couldn’t resist.

He is slightly unsettled by Rumlow trying to get into his pants while they’re in the locker room but Steve makes it pretty clear that he is _done_ with that shit. Steve can hear Clint’s voice the whole time, telling him he deserves better than a quick fuck at the firehouse, more than some meaningless sex with someone who doesn’t get him.

He’s trying to improve his life. He genuinely is trying to get better at dealing with his feelings, at believing he’s worth it. He deserves to be happy again and he’s trying so hard to believe it, to make it happen.

Being confident about his worth and value, it isn’t easy every day that’s for sure. He’s doing everything he can though.

It’s around lunch that he hears the door open and close before everyone turn to the person who just entered. When he sees the girls get up with a look of actual awe on their faces, Steve finally looks away from his plate and towards the door.

That’s when he sees Bucky.

Bucky and his dog.

Bucky who is softly looking at him and smiling. Steve feels his heart beat faster and his cheeks heat up. Steve smiles at Bucky then gets up to go to him. Once they are face to face, Steve finally looks at the dog and sees the animal looking at him. He crouches down and scratches its head. He looks up at Bucky and smiles before getting up and turning to everyone.

“This is my friend Bucky, everyone. He just wanted to show off his new puppy,” Steve says, grinning at his new friend. “Bucky, this is my house,” he declares, gesturing to the room around them.

“And who’s this beauty?” Darcy asks, petting the dog’s belly.

“This is Winter and she’s the nicest,” Bucky says smiling down at his dog.

Then he looks at Steve and his eyes shine with something the blond can’t quite put his finger on. Steve gives a little nod towards the conference room next to the dining area. Bucky smiles and hands over the dog to the girl in front of him dressed in a paramedics’ uniform and follows Steve. They walk into the room silently and Bucky watches Steve slowly pull a chair before sitting himself down. Buckyt walks up to him and leans on the table in front of Steve.

“So, you got yourself a dog, uh?” Steve asks, smiling up at his friend.

“Didn’t buy her, my roommate got it for me. Doesn’t want me to stay alone too much so she got me a pup,” Bucky says before looking away from Steve. “And she’s right, I’m sick of being lonely.”

“That’s a big thing to admit Buck, m’proud of you,” Steve tells him, squeezing his shoulder slightly. He can clearly see him now and he notices the dark circles around under his eyes and the way his eyelids slightly drop over his eyes. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days. “Are you okay? You look super tired.”

Bucky places his hand on top of Steve’s and smiles. “I’m fine Steve, I’m just – I’m having nightmares lately. And I should’ve talked about it on Saturday but we were talking about good things and – well whatever. I’m seeing the same thing over and over.” Bucky takes a deep breath before looking down at his knees at rubbing his hands together. “ Well not the _same_ , per se, but you know, my man getting killed because of me. It fucks me up man, so bad. And I can’t make it stop, I can’t –“

“Okay Bucky, I need you to breath, ‘kay? Breath for me, please,” Steve says, holding Bucky’s head in both of his hands. “You’re okay, it’s okay. I’m right here.”

Bucky’s breathing slowly starts to decelerate and he quickly gets up and away from Steve. “Shit, I’m sorry, didn’t mean for this to happen. I better go, I’ll see you tomorrow, ‘kay?”

When Bucky’s head slips away from his hands, his fingers come in contact with raised scarred tissue on the side of the man’s neck. Understanding flashes across his skin as Bucky’s long hair reveal his neck, littered with scars, seemingly from burns even though he can’t be sure. Steve doesn’t say a word about, doesn’t address the skin Bucky seems to be hiding so hard. So he lets his eyes wander back to the other man’s eyes.

“Hey Buck, you can hang around for a bit, we don’t have to talk. We’ll do that tomorrow,” Steve says, trying to calm Bucky down. He smiles softly when his friend nods and comes back to sit next to him.

They don’t talk for long, they just chat for a bit before going back to Bucky’s dog, who they can hear barking softly in the room next to them.

As soon as the Bucky steps into the room, the dog sprints to him and licks his hand, asking for attention and Bucky totally gives it to her.

Bucky doesn’t stay after that, he just gives Steve a half-hug, promises the other man to come to the VA tomorrow then leaves, waving at everybody. They make him swear to bring the dog – and himself, of course – back for lunch sometimes. They always enjoy seeing new people, keeps the life in the house interesting.

They go back to work pretty quickly as they are called to a big car accident on the Brooklyn Bridge. They work along a few other firefighters as it’s a pretty big crash but it’s okay, Steve always likes to work in big groups. It makes him feel like he belongs, like when he was in the Marines and work with many people. He loves it. That’s when he sees how big the job he does is. How bigger than any of them this all is.

Sometimes, Steve hates his job. Not because he doesn’t truly like saving people’s lives or running into a burning building but because when he, on days like today, sees kids stuck in cars and crying or screaming because they can see their parents bloodied and unconscious, he doesn’t want that for anybody.

It’s the part of his job that he hates, that breaks his heart in so many pieces he’s sure he loses a few each time.

He remembers one of his first days on Truck when they had to pull a kid out of a raging fire, when his chief was screaming at Rhodes and Steve to get out before the roof caved in. But they found this little kid, under the bed and it was the easiest decision he ever had to make.

If he was going to risk his life, he wanted to do it while saving another one. That’s what made him so good at his job. It still is.

After they manage to rescue everyone, manage to get everyone to safety, whether it’s sending them home or to a hospital. It takes them a little over two hours to get the traffic back on track with not too many injured.

As soon as they are back at the house, Steve helps Parker to cook dinner. Brock comes up to him with a smirk on his face that Steve doesn’t like at all. He doesn’t say a word though, he doesn’t want to discuss whatever they have – _had_ – in front of everyone. But apparently, Brock doesn’t mind the audience one bit.

“So, that Bucky dude, s’he your new fuckbuddy or something?” Brock asks, leaning against the counter, his front almost touching Steve’s side as he’s checking on his bolognaise sauce.

“What the hell are you talking about, Rumlow?” Steve asks quietly, trying not to draw attention to them.

It’s too late though, because Steve’s lieutenant is now looking at them with one of his brow arched almost comically.

“Are you fucking him? Is that why you’ve been blowing me off?” Brock says slowly and clearly, speaking as if Steve was a small child and couldn’t really understand what he was being told.

“I am not and even if I was, it’s none of your business,” Steve bites back in a low voice, seeing his lieutenant looking up to them with a fed up look on his face.

“What’s this about fellas?” Rhodes asks them, getting up from his chair and walking to the stove.

“Nothing, Rumlow’s just being an idiot,” Steve says, trying to sound like he’s joking. Rhodes doesn’t really look convinced but he drops it, not wanting to start shit at the end of the shift.

Steve never hid his sexuality from his colleagues. He never saw the point in doing so. He was kind of scared in the beginning, not knowing what to say but when they started asking if he had a girl so that’s when he decided to say it.

“Actually, I kinda have a guy at the moment. We’ll see where that goes,” he said to his coworkers. “Did have a girlfriend not too long ago. I don’t really care, to be honest,” he added. And that was it. Everyone said it was cool, that they didn’t give a shit about who he chose to fuck. That’s when he knew this was where he was supposed to be at alongside the people he was supposed to be with. And it felt so good after everything he had been through.

When the clock hits eight the next morning, Steve gladly throws his bag on his shoulder and gets on his motorcycle to drive to the Brooklyn hospital. He pulls up into the garage, takes his helmet off and slowly heads to the inside of the medical center. He walks to the elevator and goes up to oncology floor. As soon as he is on the right floor, he quickly walks to the right room and knocks. When he hears an affirmative sound, he enters the room and goes directly to the bed.

He looks at his mom, lying in this bed and tries to smile.

Sarah Rogers was diagnosed with cancer ten years ago. It had been hard on both of them and money was tight. Steve was just a young man, straight out of the fire academy and he wasn’t making any money with his art.

He tried, he really did. But he never really thought he was good enough to make it out there. He loved art, he always did but it is a tough business and he just didn’t see himself being able to be a part of it.

So he enlisted and when Steve got back from his first tour, his mom was in remission.  Her cancer wasn’t really cured but it wasn’t a threat anymore, so they let her out of the hospital.

She was fine for a long while, so Steve wasn’t feeling guilty when he was shipped to Syria for his second tour.  But last year, a few months after Steve got back from overseas, his mom’s cancer reappeared. He didn’t have lot of money but the small amount he had, he spent it on his mother, still does. He knows she isn’t getting better, at all.

But he still wishes there was more he could do. She needs to get better; she is all he has left. He doesn’t know what he would do without his mom. It has been just the two of them for so long; Steve was so damn young when his dad was killed in action.

“How you feelin’, Ma?” Steve asks, seating on the bed next to her. He puts his hand on hers and squeezes softly. She smiles at him and squeezes back. He knows his mom is gonna say she is fine, that she’s feeling alright, because she doesn’t want to worry her son. She always tries to be the strong one. He guesses that runs in the family.

“I’m good, Steven. I’m feeling better,” Sarah says, kissing her son’s hand and smiling weakly at him.

They both know she’s lying but none of them want to say it out loud so they pretend that it’s true. They have been pretending for a long time now. They pretended everything was fine ten years ago and nothing is going to stop them from doing the same thing today.

Steve stays close to his mother for a long time. Not talking about anything specific but Sarah knows something is up. She has always been a very instinctive woman when it comes to her son. Since the day he was born, she has always known when something is wrong, when he is hurting, when he is sad or happy. And just because she’s sick, does not mean that she cannot still read her son like an open book.

She can see Steve’s eyes drift away when they talk about the VA; she sees how his lips softly form a small frown when they talk about his job and his friends; and she definitely sees how tired he looks when they talk about everything else.

“What’s on your mind, son?” Sarah asked rubbing Steve’s arm. The man sighs and looks down at his hands but he does not answer his mother. “That bad, uh?”

“I just have a lot on my mind lately. With work and the VA and – I’ve been thinkin’ of Peggy, y’know and I don’t wanna,” Steve says, his voice so low he isn’t sure his mom can hear him. But she nods and gives him this _look_. The look she gives him when he speaks of something difficult, of something serious. And every time he sees this look, he can’t stop talking. “I don’t know why she’s on my mind lately, I mean, she ain’t coming back. And even if she were, I’m not doing this again. And then there’s this guy I’ve been having one on one sessions with. And he’s great and he doesn’t look at me like I’m a freak ‘cause he thinks he’s the freak and I don’t know, he just helps me get better, too,” he says with the ghost of a smile on his lips.

He never said it out loud before; he never admitted that he needs to get better. That he isn’t as put together as everyone thinks he is. He knows his mom figured it out a long time ago but saying it changes everything. He feels like a weigh has been lifted from his shoulders, like he can finally breathe better now that someone explicitly knows he needs to recover.

Sarah knows how broken Steve was when Peggy left. She was there when it happened, she took care of his son until he was deployed again. She had to force-feed him, she had to make him shower at least once a week. He was a wreck for months. And one morning he decided he was done being sad. He was done mourning a relationship that wouldn’t have worked anyway. So he got up and a month later, he was back overseas doing the only thing he knew how to do.

“Sweetie, it’s okay to think about her. She was in your life for so long, you have every right to still think about what could’ve been. I know you loved her so much, baby,” his mother tells him, looking sad but supportive. She rubs his back and kisses his cheek before Steve gets up, looking at his watch.

“I better go, I need to eat something then head to the VA,” Steve says before kissing his mother’s forehead, “I’ll come back soon, I promise.”

She only gives him a nod before he goes.

Steve heads home and quickly makes himself something to eat. He barely has time to finish his food that he already needs to head out to meet with Bucky.

The more Steve sees the other man, the more he wishes he could see Bucky more often. The fact that Steve is able to tell Bucky things he has never told anyone but Sam is so relieving and so _freeing_.

When Steve takes his helmet off in front of the VA, he notices the wetness in his eyes and on his face. He knows he gets emotional every time he sees his mom and he knows that going in there to have a session with Bucky is probably not a great idea because he has to be the strong one again. But he is not. Not right now.  But he needs to. So he wipes his face, breathes out slowly and steps inside the building and goes to the room where they usually meet.

As he walks in, he sees that Bucky is already sitting down next to the window, looking out towards the sky. Winter is lying next to his feet, sleeping. The man looks so peaceful that Steve doesn’t want to disturb him. He leans against the doorway and smiles softly.

When did Bucky start making him feel _serene_?

“Steve?” the blond faintly hears. When he looks up, Bucky is right next to him, worry in his eyes and a small, timid smile on his face.

“Hey, sorry, I kinda spaced out,” he says, passing Bucky so he can go sit down on a chair next to where the other man was just a few seconds ago. Steve gestures to the Bucky to sit next to him and once he does, Steve drops his eyes.

“D’you wanna be the one to talk today, Steve?” the man asks, looking intently at his friend. He does need to talk about his nightmares and his sleepless nights but in this moment, seeing Steve look that way, all he wants is to make sure the other man is fine. All he cares about is Steve.

And it might be such a stupid thing to even think of asking because they don’t know each other that well. Sure, they talk about the trauma they went through and how they cope with it – mostly Bucky – but they don’t talk about the little things of their pasts.

They don’t talk about _before_ the war. They don’t talk about being kids, about growing up and finding themselves, or about high school and love and teenage mistakes. They don’t _know_ each other.

Bucky feels like an idiot now. He doesn’t want Steve to think he’s trying to skip his session or anything. He just wants to help but he knows it’s not his place. This is not what all this is about. Steve is supposed to help him, not the other way around.

“Forget it, I just –”

“I just came straight from the hospital,” Steve blurts out before the other man can even finish his sentence. “My mom. She’s been there for quite a while now. But it doesn’t get easier, ya know? Seeing her in that bed, it’s still as hard as it was ten years ago. I try to be strong, I _have_ to be. I know I’m gonna lose her but I still hope every day that I’ll get more time. That she’ll get better and she’ll get to come _home_.”

Bucky looks at him and he really tries to school his features so the compassion he feels so deeply doesn’t seep through. He doesn’t know how it feels to see someone you love like that but he knows how it is like to feel like you’re losing your mother.

“I’m not gonna pretend I know what it’s like but if you wanna talk, I’m all ears. And if you don’t I can talk. Or we can just do something else. We can get outta here,” James says, putting his hand on Steve’s shoulder and squeezing it a little. “Just say the word,” he adds, stroking his back gently.

“D’you smoke?” Steve asks suddenly, turning his upper body towards Bucky. “Weed I mean?”

“Do you?” Bucky asks with a smirk playing on his face, surprised by the other man’s question.

“As a matter of fact, I do, yeah. D’you – do you wanna get high with me, Buck?”

“Fuck yeah, man. Let’s go,” Bucky says enthusiastically before getting up, grabbing his dog’s leach and follows Steve out the door.

They agree that Bucky will follow Steve’s bike back to his place. As Bucky sits in his car, with his dog next to him and Steve riding his motorcycle in front of him, he can’t help but smile. He doesn’t know why but it feels surprisingly good.

When they pull up to Steve’s place, they take their time to walk up the stairs before ending up in front of a big double metal door. Steve unlocks it and opens the half on the left before inviting Bucky in.

Bucky finds himself in the middle a loft with dark red brick walls, dark hardwood floors all over the place and big windows everywhere. To his left is an open kitchen area with a counter separating it from the living room Bucky is standing in. The room is separated in half by a floor to ceiling bookcase with a television on the back of it, in front of Bucky. There’s an old couch that could easily fit four people and angled next to it, is a beat up leather armchair. Behind it, there is another floor to ceiling bookcase seemingly filled with old vinyl records, CD’s and DVD’s. In the corner next to the TV, Bucky can see a record player and wonders if his dad still listens to old rock records in his study.

He doesn’t want to be thinking about his family right now and, as if Steve could read his mind, he turns to him and speaks up. “Want the grand tour?” he asks softly with a small smile on his lips.

Bucky just nods and unclips the leash around Winter’s neck before following Steve in the other half of the room which is a dining room with a really big table. He can now see that the bookcase is filled with books and comics.

Steve crosses the room and goes to the right, to a door and opens it, inviting Bucky to get inside.

“That’s my room, ain’t real tidy, sorry,” Steve says kind of sheepishly. Bucky just looks at him, unmoved, lifting his eyebrow in a way that says _‘like I care’_ before smiling and looking around the room.

He’s standing on a carpet, just at the foot of Steve bed that is made just like in the army, all tight and symmetrical. To his right is a wooden wardrobe, its twin standing just behind the door. To Bucky’s left, against a metal wall, is a gray couch that looks pretty comfortable if you ask James. There are some clothes littering the floor but Bucky couldn’t care less, considering the state of his own room.

“Watch this,” Steve says before walking to the metal wall and crouching next to the couch. He grabs something that looks like a handle and when Steve stands up, he pulls on it, bringing the wall up with him.

Bucky looks at the wall slide against the ceiling of the room, separating in several parts.

The room it reveals is nothing Bucky thought Steve would have. It’s so luminous and clear. There are two windows on his right and one in front of him. There is a big closet taking up the space in the right corner and the floor is covered with white sheets with paint all over it.

There is a big desk under the windows to his right, the top hidden under so many papers that Bucky can’t even imagine how many there are. On the left of the desk, there is an easel with a half blank canvas on it. On the right of the desk, he can see at least ten canvases stacked. They are all facing the wall though, so Bucky can’t see what they are.

He tries to make up what is painted on the canvas standing in the middle of the room but he can’t. But he has seen how Steve can draw, he’s sure the painting will turn out to be beautiful.

“Steve, this is –” Bucky tries to say but he can’t find the words to explain what he’s seeing. He finally stops looking around the room and lets his eyes settle on Steve, who is looking down at his feet.

“I don’t show this to people that often,” Steve shares while he is playing with his hands. “Not like I have a lot of people to show this to. But it’s just that this place, this room, it’s my safe place. Thought you’d like to see it,” Steve says, looking up at Bucky.

They look at each other for a second before Bucky turns his whole body towards Steve and hugs him. He hooks his arms around Steve’s neck and hugs the living shit out of him. The blond just stands there for a couple of seconds, his arms limp next to him but when he registers what is happening, he wraps his arms around Bucky and squeezes him back.

They stay there for what feels like hours, even though it’s probably just a minute, and it might be inappropriate, to hug someone for so long but honestly, it just feels _right_.

When the two men part, they look at each other for a couple of seconds before Steve looks away, without letting go of Bucky fully.

“You can poke around if you want,” Steve says, nodding towards the canvases and the desk. “I don’t mind.”

Bucky smiles then. One of the biggest smiles he has shown in years. He nods, keeping his smile on, and moves away from Steve slowly. He wants to keep his hand on him, in any way he can, but he decides against it as he moves to the paintings. They are all neatly stacked and as Bucky shuffles through them, he realizes that most of those are scenes from warzones. Some are portraits, some are landscapes but half of them are combat scenes.

He analyzes the paintings closely for a few minutes before he moves to the desk right next to it. Scattered across the surface is a bunch of doodles, sketches and under all that, there are actual drawings. Drawings of people in uniforms, all looking happy and alive. Next to that, Bucky can see a sketchbook filled with sceneries, full of colors and they all look just like photographs.

“I knew you were good, Steve, but damn, those belong in a fuckin’ museum,” Bucky says, turning around to look at Steve with a look of utter astonishment on his face.

Steve doesn’t know if Bucky is saying it because he is just being his friend or if he is being honest. He never thought he was good enough. So he just smiles politely and nods. That’s all he ever does when people compliment his art. He can never do anything else.

“Don’t do that,” Bucky says looking at Steve intently in the eyes.

“Do what?”

“Don’t act like you’re no good,” the brunet answers as he gets up from the office chair and walks up to Steve. He puts both of his hands on the other man’s shoulders and locks eyes with Steve's. “You, Steve Rogers, are a talented motherfucker, okay? Don’t tell yourself otherwise,” Bucky says softly but strongly at the same time. He slightly shakes Steve’s shoulders as he’s talking, trying to get his point across.

Steve just nods and closes his eyes for a few, and then he looks at Bucky again “We came here for something though, didn’t we?”

Bucky nods, a smile playing on his lips, then they exit the room through the door situated next to the lifted wall.

Once they are back in the living room, Steve tells Bucky to pick a record to put on while he rolls their joint.

Just as James puts the needle on the record, Steve calls to him, “Wanna do the honor?” he asks, gesturing to the joint and the lighter next to it on the coffee table. Bucky nods just as the music fills the room, which makes Steve smile. “Bowie fan, uh?”

“Who isn’t?” Bucky says with a little smile as he lights the joint. He takes a pretty big puff and leaves it in his lungs for a few seconds before he blows it out. After a few more puffs, he passes the joint to Steve.

They go back and forth until Steve stubs the joint out in the ashtray on the coffee table then he gets up to flip the record to the side B. When he turns around, the dog is laying on his spot so he goes to sit next to Bucky, smiling at the dog.

Steve hasn’t been high like that in a while but honestly, he’s happy to be with Bucky. It seems like the other man can read him, can feel exactly how he feels. Steve feels like there is a bond forming between them and he doesn’t want to do anything to prevent it to not fully grow.

“You paint your memories?” Bucky asks quietly, looking over at Steve. The blond frowns and scratches Winter’s head softly.

“I paint my nightmares. But I guess it’s kinda the same for us, isn’t it?”

When Steve wakes up in the middle of the night, sweating and screaming, he lifts the wall separating the two rooms and gets a canvas out before starting to paint what he saw while he was asleep. He doesn’t always know what is real and what is not. He mostly knows he dreams of memories but they are twisted by his subconscious.

He doesn’t sleep much lately, he has been dreaming a lot.

He has always painted better in the middle of the night anyway.

“I um – I play music when it’s really bad. I’ve been playing a lot lately,” Bucky admits, reaching out for the puppy. The animal moves and goes lay half on Bucky’s lap and half on Steve’s. He strokes the dog’s back and sighs. “Haven’t been sleepin’ much, y’know. I’m kinda getting memories back, it ain’t easy.”

Steve gets up and goes to the kitchen and opens the fridge. “D’you wanna talk ‘bout it?”, he asks as he pops two beers open.

“I – it’s just – okay,” Bucky says, reaching for the beer Steve is offering him. He plays with the label for a few seconds before talking again. “I remember my friends and I, just before the blast. I remember the IED itself, actually. I remember my best friend shielding me with a box and I remember her pulling me out of the car, my arm all bloody and my body limp in her arms. Then it goes black and I don’t know what happens until I’m in the hospital.”

“Do you think a lot happened in between those two events?” Steve wonders, turning his upper body in Bucky’s direction while he puts his right arm on the back of the couch.

“I think something happened, yeah. My arm, it wasn’t _that_ bad, I know it wasn’t,” Bucky says, looking up at Steve. There is pain in his eyes even though he tries to hide it. “I could feel it and I could move it. There is something that I don’t know. It would’ve been hard to use fully, but it wasn’t _that_ bad.” Bucky says frantically. Steve puts his hand on the other man’s shoulder trying to ground him a little. When Bucky starts to breathe heavily, Steve takes the beer from Bucky’s grip and puts it down on the table. Steve puts his hands on each sides of Bucky’s neck and makes the man look at him.

“It’s okay, Buck, it’s fine. Look at me. Whatever happened, you’ll figure it out and you’ll handle it, whichever way you need to. And I’ll be there if you want me to,” Steve says, staring Bucky in the eyes and softly rubbing his thumb on the scars littering the left side of Bucky’s neck.

Bucky freezes for a second when he notices the touch but then, he relaxes slowly under Steve’s touch. Soon after, Bucky’s breathing comes back to normal and it takes everything in him not to lean into Steve’s touch lingering on his neck. He nods to Steve and softly exhales.

“We’ll be fine, Stevie,” Bucky says. “I just need to –” Bucky starts but he is interrupted by a knock on the door.

Steve looks sorry when he lets go of the other man to get the door. He pulls it open and his best friend is there, a dumb smile on his face three pizzas balancing on one hand and a six pack tucked under his arm.

“Damn it Steve, you got high on your own?” Clint says as he shoulders his way past Steve and to the kitchen. Once everything is set down on the bar, he turns around and sees Bucky and his dog on the couch, both looking at him. “Or not,” the man says, smiling at Steve. “I’m Clint,” he says, walking in Bucky’s direction with his hand out towards Bucky.

“Bucky,” the man says, shaking the other man’s hand.

“So,” Clint states, dropping next to Bucky and putting his feet on the table. “You gettin’ my Steve high, uh?”

“Actually, t’was his idea,” Bucky says smiling up at Steve who is still standing next to the door, a frown on his face. “You okay there, Stevie?” he asks, a smile playing on his lips as he sees Steve come back to himself and sit next to Clint.

“Shoes off my table, douche,” Steve says pushing his friend’s feet from the table, making him fall off the couch in the process.

Clint looks at him then turns to Bucky before speaking. “I hope he treats you better my friend, ‘cause he’s an ass with me.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re an ass with me, dickhead,” Steve says, laughing softly. It makes Bucky’s emotion bubble up inside him, hearing that sound. He has never heard such an honest laugh from Steve before and it’s such a beautiful sound, Bucky wants to hear it forever.

“So, assholes, what d’you say we get this show on the road?” Clint asks, gesturing to the pizzas and beers on the counter. “You’re in luck, Bucky, I saw big tonight and picked up three of these babies.”

Steve looks down at his wrist to check the time and sees it is four already. He has no idea how long Bucky has been here but he knows it feels great to have him close to him.

“You are stayin’ for pizza aren’t ya?” Steve asks Bucky softly.

Bucky shrugs and nods, oddly at the same time, then he goes to get the pizzas and the beers. He opens each box to see what topping Clint chose and when he realizes one of them is an extra cheesy one with chicken and a lot of onions and peppers, he claims it pretty quickly.

“I like him, he took your pizza”, Clint says, laughing a little. “Can we smoke something while we eat? Been wantin’ to get high for a while,” he asks, turning the TV on and putting some crappy comedy on Netflix.

Steve laughs and starts rolling another joint as Bucky and Clint start eating their pizzas. He lights it up himself this time, taking a few puffs before passing it to Clint and starts eating as well. He looks around the table for the bottle opener but realizes it’s on the counter.

Bucky can see him hesitating to get up so he reaches for a beer and takes his glove off his left hand to open the bottle with his thumb. He hands the bottle to Steve with a smile on his face and a nod.

“Thanks, man,” Steve says as he takes the bottle from Bucky’s metal hand. He can see Clint’s eyes on it but the man doesn’t say a thing and he’s so grateful that Clint is the way he is.

Bucky proceeds to open one for Clint and one for himself as well.

As he hands Clint his beer, Clint hands him the joint. They trade and Bucky take a long puff, letting it out a few seconds later.

They eat, drink and smoke for a while, then they just sit and watch a second movie. Clint keeps looking between Steve and Bucky, thinking he might have interrupted something when he arrived.

He’s glad that Steve has a friend though. He has watched his friend be alone for too long. Except for Sam and Clint, Steve has been secluding himself a lot. So the fact that he is opening his home to someone new is a good sign. And it tells Clint that Bucky is a good man.

Even though he hasn’t asked about it, Clint can’t quite take his eyes off the metal of Bucky’s left hand. That is, without question, a Stark Industries arm so it means Bucky is a vet. So it means he has seen shit, like all of them.

“You can ask, you know,” Bucky says without taking his eyes off the TV screen. He has a small smile on his lips when he finally turns his head towards Clint.

“Iraq?”

“Iraq, Afghanistan, Syria, you name it man, I’ve probably been there at some point,” Bucky answers, shrugging. “Got blown up in Afghanistan though, from what I’ve been told,” he says, shrugging again.

Steve doesn’t like this. Bucky is acting like it’s no big deal, like he just got a scratch and not an arm blown off. How can he be so casual about it when it took him more than a month to actually say anything more than his name?

Clint can sense Steve’s uneasiness so after he looks at his friend and nods, he turns to Bucky. “I get it, my memory’s fucked too.”

And that’s it; the subject won’t be discussed again tonight. Clint wants to know him though so he tries to find another topic but he has no idea what to talk about.

“Sleeping here tonight Clint?” Steve asks, trying to get the attention _off_ Bucky.  He knows it’s stupid to be so protective of the other man but he feels like if Bucky has no idea what happened to him, it’s best if he doesn’t talk about too much.

“Nah, got a hot date,” Clint answers with a smile on his face.

“You have a date and you came here to eat crap and get high?” Bucky asks with a chuckle.

“ _'Hot date'_ is Clint’s way of saying he has a girl coming over later, and not for dinner,” Steve provides for Bucky. “How’s it going with Nat anyway?”

“It’s great, she’s great,” Clint answers with a smile. “She works like a crazy woman it that coffee shop of hers, but we manage.”

“I offered my help, she declined,” Steve says, feigning helplessness.

“She likes to do things alone,” Bucky says, shrugging.

Both men turn to Bucky with a confused and surprised look on their faces.

“You guys are talking about Romanov, right?” Bucky asks like they are kind of stupid for not understanding. Steve nods while Clint looks at Bucky confusedly. “She’s my roommate. And occasionally my best friend,” Bucky says, smirking. “So you are the man who stole Tasha’s cold heart, uh?”

Clint smiles at that and nods. “The one and only,” he says with a chuckle.

“Small world, uh?” Steve states before turning back to the TV.

When Clint finally leaves to go back to his place, Bucky is already passed out on the couch, his dog eating Clint’s pizza crusts and drinking water from the bowl Steve left for him.

The first time Steve wakes up in the middle of the night he doesn’t get up because what he finds is Bucky asleep on the couch in his room, like he’s looking out for him in some way. He doesn’t go back to sleep right away though, he watches Bucky for a little while, Winter pressed to him on the bed.

He finds that _this,_ this is what happiness could be like. It’s on that thought that he goes back to sleep.

The second time Steve wakes, he isn’t sure if it’s because of his screams or Bucky’s. But once Steve’s eyes are open, he can see Bucky tossing and turning on the couch, whimpering softly and shaking all over.

Winter gets off the bed and instantly goes to lick Bucky’s face, trying to wake him up.

Steve himself is still shaken by his dream but all he wants at the moment is for Bucky to wake up and stop making those sounds, so he gets up and crouches down next to the couch. He runs his hands up and down Bucky’s arms, softly saying his name over and over.

Bucky’s eyelids slowly start to flutter open as he tries to push the dog away from him, mumbling something that Steve can’t understand. When Bucky realizes he’s not alone, the moment his eyes fall on Steve, he sits up so fast that Winter almost falls off the couch.

“Fuck, what –” he starts to say but once he sees the look in Steve’s eyes he lies back down and rubs his flesh hand down his face. “I’m so fucking sorry, man,” he says, hiding his face in the back of the couch.

“It’s okay, Buck,” Steve says, still rubbing Bucky’s right arm. “D’you need something?” He asks, already half up to go get him a glass of water.

“No,” Bucky says, stopping Steve by grabbing his hand and tugging on it so Steve falls back next to him. “Don’t, please,” he pleads so softly Steve isn’t sure he even said it at all.

Steve still has terror all over his face, tears still in his eyes and hands still shaking. He doesn’t acknowledge it though, only concentrate on Bucky. But he can see Steve isn’t feeling great, isn’t feeling normal so he lets go of him and sits down.

“D’you need to paint?” Bucky asks, the silent question being _did you also have a nightmare?_

“Yeah,” Steve whispers, “yeah, I do.”

Bucky looks at him and nods before getting up to get the metal door just behind him. He lifts it and gestures to Steve to join him. The man comes up to him and squeezes his shoulder as he passes him. Bucky watches Steve go to the easel and set everything up. He takes out his tubes of paint, his brushes and his pencil to draw the outline of the painting. As Steve starts to sketch, Bucky quietly exits the room, Winter on his heels.

He goes to the kitchen to get a glass of water for each of them as well as his backpack before heading back to Steve’s room. He drops his pack on the couch and goes up to Steve to give him his glass. He softly thanks him but goes back to drawing a second later, not even taking a sip of water.

Not wanting to bother the other man, Bucky goes back to the couch and opens his bag to get the notebook and the pen stuffed inside of it. He sits in a position where he can watch Steve if he wants to but he mostly just writes in his notebook. He writes about what he remember, what he thinks he can recall.

He has been doing that for a while, it was Nat who thought it would help. She was right; it makes him remember things better, more clearly.

When he looks up at Steve, almost an hour later, he is painting the final touches on the canvas. Bucky gets up and goes to sit on the desk next to Steve and looks at the picture. He can see people but can’t see their faces. He can see the sand all around them. He can see the sun up in the sky, looking so realistic that Bucky can almost feel it. He can see the blood and the pain. It’s so beautiful and powerful that Bucky almost tears up.

Steve seems to come back to himself as Bucky sits down. He turns to Bucky and smiles softly at him while he wipes his hands on a cloth.

“It looks perfect, Steve,” Bucky says as soon as Steve’s eyes are on him.

“Thanks, man,” Steve answers, gazing at his own painting before turning back to the other man. “What d’you do all this time?”

“Wrote,” he responds, glancing down at his feet dangling from the desk. “My memories, my dreams. I write ‘em all.”

Steve nods gingerly before looking away from Bucky and back at his painting.

He likes this one. He doesn’t always like what he does. In fact, he usually hates it but today, he painted something so raw, so compelling. He remembers that day like it was yesterday.

It was during his second tour, back in Syria. They were stationed outside a small town, just a few units, not too many men, just there as a prevention. Steve remembers the first explosion, just outside their camp. He remembers the heat, the panic, the pain, the screams. He remembers everything. Some of the men didn’t make it out, giving their lives to save others.

Steve recalls trying to go back, trying to pull men out of there before it was too late but it _was_ already too late. Their camp was burning, fire raging, hurting his friends, his _family_.

He knows he’s shaking, reaching for the painting with the fingers of his left hand, stopping himself just as he’s about to touch the wet paint on the canvas.

Steve can feel a hand on his shoulder, cold and strong but grounding. He turns to Bucky and tries to smile but it comes out as more of a grimace, judging by the man’s reaction. The other man’s hand is still on his shoulder, but he drops it down his arm, that’s when Steve takes notice of his appearance.

The blond is still in his boxer, his torso only covered by a white undershirt, his tattoos on display. Bucky’s hand is grazing one of the designs his has on his right shoulder. It’s his oldest one. The first tattoo he got when he was just eighteen years old. He’s always loved it, never regretted getting it for a second. It’s a part of his favorite painting, Van Gogh’s The Starry Night.

He can feel Bucky’s fingers go down his arms, following the ink of other tattoos down his shoulder to his elbow and down to his wrist. He looks mesmerized, like he has never seen something as _beautiful_ as Steve’s ink.

Bucky’s fingers are now running along the letters on Steve’s forearm, small and cursive and so familiar. _Semper Fidelis_ , the Marines’ motto.

Bucky can see more tattoos peeking from the collar of Steve’s shirt but he doesn’t dare looking at them too much. Steve’s left bicep is also covered in ink, but this one darker, mostly made of black lines and shadings. It’s as beautiful as the other sleeve.

“Didn’t know you were that much of a badass,” Bucky says with a small laugh.

“I ain’t, just try to look like I am,” Steve answers with a smile playing on his lips. “I mostly have ‘em to try and hide my scars,” he adds, lifting his shirt a bit to reveal some scars on the side of his lower abdomen. As his eyes level up with Bucky’s face again, they quickly fall to the man’s neck. Bucky notices and instantly feels self-conscious as he lifts his hand up to cover the scars there.

“Yeah, we all find ways to hide ‘em,” he says, looking down at his knees. He slowly gets his hand away from his neck and looks back at Steve. He smiles as he lifts his hair up and ties it in a loose bun with the elastic band he has around his wrist.

“Buck, you don’t have to –” Steve tries to say but Bucky just dismisses him with a wave and shows his scars.

There are more than Steve initially thought. They run from below his ear and they disappear down under the collar of Bucky’s shirt. They start off small and soft but the more they go, the bigger they get. He wants to reach out and touch but he doesn’t dare doing so. He just stares at them intently but divert his eyes when he thinks it might be rude to stare.

“When the rover blew up, I got hit by shrapnel and I got burned,” Bucky explains when he sees Steve’s eyes lingering on the scarred tissues. He doesn’t let his eyes drop back, tries to hold Steve’s gaze as he looks up at him. “I can hide every scar I got during the war with clothes, except those so when I got out of the hospital, I let my hair grow so I could hide ‘em.”

He doesn’t really know what to say to that so Steve starts putting his things away. He looks at Bucky from the corner of his eyes and sees Bucky smile softly. They stay silent for a little while, just looking at each other from time to time.

When Steve finally comes back to where Bucky is seating he leans on the desk next to him. He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding until now.

“You’ve been doing really good at speaking up lately,” Steve declares, looking at Bucky with a proud smile on his lips.

In the weeks they’ve been seeing each other at the VA, Bucky talked about so many things he never imagined he would. It hasn’t been easy but right now, it’s four in the morning and he’s showing one of the things he hates most about himself and he isn’t even afraid. He doesn’t fear anything, not with the way Steve is looking at him at the moment.

They don’t stay up much longer, exhaustion showing on both of their faces. The second Bucky yawns, Steve is nudging his shoulder to get him to stand up. They head back to the other half of the room and as Steve sits on his bed, Bucky goes back to the couch, where Winter is sleeping soundly. He sits next to the dog and picks her up to sit her on his chest before laying down.

Steve smiles at the scene and lays down himself a couple of seconds later. When Steve looks back at the couch a few minutes after, they’re both sound asleep, Bucky snoring softly.

With a small smile on his face, Steve goes back to sleep. He doesn’t wake up again until the next morning, when the sun starts to seep through the curtains. He’s never felt so serene after a night full of bad dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update might take a little while longer to be posted, I'm in the middle of my finals right now then right after that I have to go back to work so I'll do my best!  
> Thanks for sticking with this, I really appreciate it. I've never been confident enough with my writing to post it so your comments and kudos give me life, thank you !  
> Find me on tumblr at udontwearmychains.tumblr.com


	7. I know it's warmer where you are, and it's safer by your side (just give it time)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky hang out and talk about what happened before the army

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I'm soooooo sorry about how long it took for this to be posted but i've been travelling a lot so I didn't really have time to write anything lately.  
> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, it's kinda heavy in some parts so please, take cautions of the updated tags.  
> Thanks for everything, and sorry again!  
> Chapter's title from You and I by PVRIS
> 
> TW : brief mention of past suicide attempt

The first time they hang out outside the comfort of Steve's place is at Natasha's coffeehouse.

Steve comes in after his usual jog after the end of a shift and literally runs into Bucky. He's looking at his phone when he enters and he supposes Bucky was doing the same before they collided and barely stayed upright.

It takes Steve half a second to register what happened and by the time he comes to, Bucky is on the floor. Steve instantly reaches a hand to Bucky who swats him away, grumbling a "watch where you're going" before looking up at the man standing in front of him.

He stares at Steve for a second, not knowing what to say, before reaching his hand up, hoping Steve will take the hint and help him up.

“Sorry man, didn't see you there,” Steve says, pulling Bucky up in a swift move. “You okay?” and asks once Bucky is on his feet.

“M'fine,” Bucky mumbles back, looking around for Natasha and trying his best not to look directly at Steve.

He looks so uncomfortable, unsettled and Steve doesn't understand why, doesn't know how to take this look off of the other man's face. So he does the first thing that comes to his mind and puts a hand on Bucky's shoulder and squeezes softly.

“Wanna sit for a while?” He asks softly when Bucky finally looks back at him.

“I'm coming to yours in like two hours, I need to get back,” Bucky answers shyly, looking down at his hands.

“It'll be our session, what d'you say?” Steve presses gently.

He doesn't want to go home to his empty apartment and do fuck all for the next few hours waiting for Bucky. He wants to hang out with him. He wants to talk about stuff that have nothing to do with PTSD and trauma and war and pain. He just wants to sit there with Bucky and talk; like friends would.

He wants to talk about that very first time he went to Coney Island when he was eleven and felt alive for the first time in his life. He wants to talk about the first time he showed a painting to his mom at the age of thirteen and she immediately framed it and put it up in the living room. He wants to tell Bucky all about that time he decided to tag a building and almost got caught and felt the adrenaline for a week. He wants to admit that he still does it from time to time, when he really can't sleep.

But most of all, he wants Bucky to tell him all about himself. He wishes the other man would talk more about how he was before all of this. He wants to know how it was to grow up in Russia. He wants to know what it was like to leave his life behind. He wants Bucky to tell him what he misses most about his other home.

After what feels like long minutes, Bucky finally nods and walks them to a quiet area at the back of the café, where they sit down on comfortable armchairs against the wall.

Natasha isn't working today so the other barista comes to their table to take their order. They both take the biggest cup of black coffee they can get and Steve orders a donut while Bucky asks for a piece of cheesecake.

Once they get a sip of the black beverage, they sigh in sync which makes Steve let out a small chuckle.

They stay silent for a little while longer. They just sit there and let themselves relax into each other's presence. 

Steve starts sketching on a napkin with a pen that was left at the table and he kind of loses himself in the drawing. He can feel himself zoning out but doesn't stop it. 

He comes back to himself when he hears Bucky's voice next to him. 

“Are you ever gonna tell me who she is?” asks Bucky, looking softly at Steve who finally looks up from his sketch. 

Steve looks down at the napkin and sees Peggy's face smiling at him like she knows he's struggling with this. With the feelings he still has for her and the feelings he now has for Bucky.

He doesn't really know what to say if he is being honest with himself. He guesses he owes the other man the truth, after all they are friends. But he's not sure of how he should say it.

He looks back at Bucky and gives him a shy little smile.

“She's – um, she's my ex,” he finally answers, looking everywhere except at Bucky.

“Oh. Peggy, right?”

Steve's eyes quickly shift back to Bucky and he's pretty sure he looks as surprised as he feels.

The blond is surprised that his friend   knows anything about the girl on the drawing. He has always been careful not to mention her in any way possible.

So how in hell could Bucky know who she is to him – _was_.

“Clint told me you used to have a girl, before your last tour,” Bucky says, like he read Steve's mind one way or another. Of course Clint said something. The man doesn't know how to shut up and probably never will. But now that Clint sees Bucky more than him, he supposes Clint has a lot of time to tell him a lot about Steve. “Sorry if I'm intruding or whatever, we can go back to not doing anything if you wanna,” Bucky says, smiling when he sees the expression on Steve's face after the mention of his ex and his best friend.

“Nah it's okay,” Steve tells his friend with a reassuring smile playing on his lips. “I just - I haven't talked about her in a long while to be honest,” his smile is now kind of nostalgic but he shakes himself out of his thoughts and looks back at Bucky. “I met her after I came home from my first tour. We were so good together, y'know? We dated for a few years and before leaving for my third tour, I proposed. And she said yes. I was so fuckin' happy.”

Steve continues and tells him everything. He tells him that everything was great for the duration of his tour except for the last few weeks. She was so distant at the time; Steve remembers it like it happened yesterday. He remembers coming home after a particularly hard tour and finding their apartment empty. Once he set foot in the bedroom, he knew. She was gone. None of her stuff was on the bedside table, and when he opened the closet, her clothes were gone. His eyes drifted back to the bed and that's when he saw it. The ring. And a letter.

He remembers reading the letter a first time without crying because all he was feeling was anger and confusion. But then he read again it and the tears came. The love of his life had left him.

The letter wasn't helpful to ease his confusion. All it said is that she was sorry but had to go back to London. She asked him to come with her even though she knew it wasn't an option, ever. But she asked. Which made Steve even more mad than he was before.

She had the audacity to abandon him and then ask him if he'd like to join like it was no big deal, like he could just throw his life away to go be with her.

The year he met her, he would have done it. When all he needed was someone to love him and validate him. But not when he was capable of finally loving himself. Not when he finally had decided to not let anyone make him feel like shit ever again.

So he let her go. He didn't text her, didn't call, didn't write, he just disappeared from her life like she had from his.

Six months later he was sent back overseas and put his everything in his job and did all he could to protect his country.

And years later, he's still not quite over it, even though he tells himself that he is.

They have seen each other a couple of times since then. They have talked it out, settled things. Even if it doesn't make him feel any better about everything that has happened between them, it did help to talk about it with her. It doesn't mean he has forgiven her for how she acted and the way she left. It doesn't mean he forgot the way it made him feel but he's at peace with it now. 

All he needs is someone to love more than he ever loved her. He used to think it wasn't possible but right now, he has Bucky in front of him, and the brunet is looking at him like all he wants to do is hug him, and Steve thinks that he might be falling for that man harder than he ever fell for anyone before.

“Ah man, that sucks, I'm sorry”, Bucky says when Steve is done talking. He wants to comfort him, wants to tell him he gets it but really, he doesn't. He has never been through a bad break up. Hell, he has probably never been in a serious relationship now that he thinks about it. Sure, he has been with one person for a long time but it was always pretty casual. He never called anyone his girlfriend or his boyfriend. It just never happened. Maybe he never found the right person to have something real with. But when he thinks about it, he is certain that he wasn't that person. He was the guy people had fun with before meeting the one. The guy you went to when you wanted a distraction not a relationship.

He's not sure if he's still that guy.

The more time passes by, the more he realizes that the person he used to be isn't someone he wants to be any longer. He wants to find a nice guy or a nice girl, settle down and build a life together. It scares him a little because these kind of thoughts have never occurred to him before Steve, before today.

And maybe it's stupid to even want that after everything that has happened to him but honestly he feels like he's ready to finally let himself love someone fully but mostly let himself be loved in return.

“It's okay. It's been years, you know? I had someone else for a few months, after the army,” Steve confesses. He never told any of his friends that, not the ones that knew about Peggy anyway.

Maybe he should have and maybe his friends wouldn't think he was so hung up on what happened of he had. It didn't mean anything though, that's why he never said anything.

“Oh yeah? What happened with her?” Bucky wonders, truly interested.

“Well he just wasn't right for me, I guess,” Steve answers shrugging softly and silently praying that Bucky isn't going to comment on the pronoun change.

It isn't like he's ashamed of his sexuality. Hell, he's fucking proud of being a bi guy. The thing is, he never knows how people are gonna react to that. Especially fellow soldiers and vets.

“He, uh?” Bucky asks and lets out a small chuckle until he recognizes the fear in Steve's eyes. “Ain't one to judge, been with less women than men, pal,” he adds with a smirk playing on his lips. Fuck, Steve can't get that smile out of his head these days.

“Oh,” he replies without really getting what has just been said to him. “Oh,” he repeats when understanding finally dawns on him.

He would have never thought that Bucky could be into men as well. Not because he doesn't look the type but because after almost ten years in the Marines, the signs get harder to see. They all had to hide it while in active duty. Hell, even when they aren't deployed. Even when they were discharged. Steve still has trouble openly saying it to other soldiers he meets at the VA. Not that it's any of their business anyway.

“Fuck, it feels good to say that,” Bucky says with a sigh after finishing the last piece of his cake.

“What d'you mean?” Steve asks, peering up at him from over the rim of the biggest coffee mug Steve has ever had in his hands.

“Man, I grew up in Russia, I was a jock in college then went to the army. S'not like it's easy to like men in any of those places,” he says looking down at his lap, not wanting to look at Steve just for a second. When he finally peeks back at him, he sees nothing but understanding on his face. “The only person I've said it to in the last ten years was Nat. Before then, probably only my dad,” he adds, fully looking at Steve now.

“Never told your mom, uh?” He asks without thinking. And when he realizes what he has just asked, he stutters for a second before saying, "shit, didn't mean to-"

“Don't sweat it,” Bucky interrupts him by putting a hand on his shoulder and leaning in the slightest bit. “My mother's very religious. Just never found a dude worth telling her about,” he adds, rubbing his thumb against Steve's shoulder with as less pressure as he can. He doesn't really know what comes over him but next thing he knows, he's looking intently at Steve and says, “not yet anyway.”

Steve blushes lightly but he doesn't look away from Bucky's beautiful grey eyes. They stay like that for what feels like forever and finally, Steve breaks the eye contact but keeps Bucky's hand on his shoulder, not wanting to lose the heat coming from the man.

It's ridiculous really. Steve had never felt this way with anyone. Even with Peggy it took him so long to be comfortable enough to let hands linger on each other's skin. It took him three months to ask her out on a date then two more months to call her his girl.

He has never felt this comfortable with someone he has known only for the better part of two months, it's just not him.

But right now with Bucky, he thinks he would like to be that carefree and just let himself be. Hell, he has already told the man so many things that took him months, sometimes years, to tell his friends, his therapist.

He doesn't want to lose this. Doesn't want the connection he can feel between them go to waste because honestly, this is the best thing that's happened to him since Sam and going back to being a firefighter.

“Now  _that_  was me flirting with you,” Bucky says, smirking like the idiot he is, trying to lighten the mood and ease the tension they both can feel between them.

“Jackass,” Steve laughs, throwing an arm around Bucky's neck and pulling him closer to him. Bucky can't help the laugh that escapes his mouth at the touch and lets himself being pressed closer to Steve. They both laugh softly for a couple more minutes before Steve lets go of the other man with a small smile still playing on his face, his eyes crinkling with mischief.

“Hey d'you wanna come back to mine?” Bucky asks when they finally settle back in their seats properly.

“Ain't that kinda guy, Buck,” Steve fires back with a smile the second the words are out of Bucky's mouth.

“Not like that, asshole. I need to get home to feed Winter but I have nothing to do but watch Netflix,” he explains with a shy look spread across his face.

“I know the meaning of the whole 'Netflix and chill' thing, you know,” he says, trying to torture Bucky a little longer.

Bucky blushes for the first time that Steve can remember and it makes him laugh more than it probably would if this was anyone but Bucky Barnes.

“Fuck you,” Bucky let's out, chuckling a little.

“You ain't helping your case, pal,” Steve laughs. “But yeah, I'll come watch Netflix with you and your dog, Bucky.”

Bucky nods and gets up to go to the counter. He pays for his drink and food as well as Steve's then gesture to Steve to follow him and heads out of the shop.

“So this was a date, uh?” Steve asks softly once they are heading to Bucky's apartment.

“I bought you coffee, don't start obsessing over me buddy,” Bucky tells him with a serious face but Steve can see Bucky's eyes shine with a sort of happiness he has never seen before. It makes him smile softly.

“So a pre-date?” Steve wonders, looking softly at Bucky.

“You'd know if this was anything close to a date, man,” Bucky says back, a smile playing on his face as well. “You ain't that irresistible,” he adds, shoving Steve's shoulder playfully.

“Fuck you, I so am,” Steve complains, his voice low and child-like.

“Not as much as me”

“Well, I don't have a metal arm to add to the charm, ain't my fault.”

“Tattoos man, they drive some people mad. My arm scares people,” Bucky says bringing his gloved fingers to Steve's face.

“People think imma hurt 'em just cause I'm tattooed, you know. We ain't that different,” Steve says playfully, grabbing Bucky's hand in his own.

“I did get an arm blown off, so there's that,” he responds with a little laugh.

“Not relevant James, not relevant,” Steve jokes, still holding Bucky hand in his. Bucky doesn't say a word, not bothered by the pressure he feels on the metal of his palm. They walk like that for a couple blocks until the rain starts to fall.

It's soft at first, just a few drops falling on them but then it's suddenly pouring down on them and they're looking for shelter anywhere they can.

They're already soaking wet but they still try to get somewhere dry to wait this out but as the minutes pass and the rain doesn't stop, Bucky starts to shudder against Steve. Taking his sport jacket off, Steve pulls Bucky closer to him and holds it above both of their heads.

“We're gonna have to run if you don't wanna catch pneumonia. I can tell you, it ain't fun,” Steve says, pulling Bucky under the falling rain.

They start running immediately and head towards Bucky's apartment, their feet pounding the pavement, drowning in the occasional puddle of water but it doesn't stop them. They sprint for a few minutes before finally stopping in front of Bucky's building.

Steve presses them against the doors as much as he can, avoiding the rain while Bucky fishes his keys out of his pockets.

The pressure of Steve's torso and hips against Bucky's back is distracting but pleasant and if he takes longer to find his keys on purpose, well no one ever has to know.

As soon as they enter Bucky’s apartment, Steve can’t help but look around before doing anything.

Right in front of him, Steve can see a corner desk covered with papers and notebooks. From the corner of his eye, he can see Bucky head into a small corridor just next to the desk and enter the room on the left. He can hear Bucky move stuff in the room while he looks around the living room. The couch to his right looks so damn comfortable that he goes to sit on it without thinking about it.

He regrets it as soon as his ass touches the fabric of the couch though. His wet running pants stretch and cling to his thighs in the most uncomfortable way so he gets up quickly and decides to awkwardly stand there and wait for Bucky. He resumes looking around, studying the pictures in the room, wandering closer to the small kitchen. There is a picture on the fridge where Bucky and Natasha look so young in their uniform. Steve leans in and inspecting the picture more closely.

Bucky’s hair is short. Really short. He never thought he could find Bucky’s any more beautiful than he already is but there is something about twenty-year-old Bucky that has Steve’s inside melting.

Bucky is smiling broadly, his arm loosely wrapped across Natasha’s shoulder while her hand is resting on the man’s hip. Natasha’s head is laying on Bucky’ left shoulder, her smile looking happier than Steve has ever seen, reaching her eyes. But what really brings a smile to Steve’s face is the way Bucky is holding himself.

He looks so carefree and relaxed that Steve can’t help but feel Bucky’s happiness radiate from the picture. 

“First day at basic training,” Bucky says as he comes up to Steve from behind, wearing dry clothes and his wet hair is pulled up in a bun. He leans against the fridge, right next to Steve, hands him a towel to somewhat dry off what he can and looks at the picture as intently as Steve is. “We were so happy to be reunited,” he says with a nostalgic smile on his lips.

“You guys _knew_ each other?” Steve asks, genuinely surprised by that revelation.

“We met a few months before I enlisted, kinda right after my injury,” Bucky explains as the smile falls from his face to be replaced by a soft frown. He looks away from the fridge to face Steve. “We were in the same hospital. It’s just – it’s a long story.”

“You don’t have to tell me, you know.”

“Just never talked about it with a friend,” Bucky says, looking back at the picture. “When I got hurt, I couldn’t take it anymore. I tried to stop thinking about it you know, I tried taking my mind off of it. But when I went back to my dorm and all my roommate could talk about was soccer and the team and the next game. I could take it. And I tried to kill myself,” he takes a pause to breathe and look at Steve.

“Fuck, I was such an idiot back then,” Bucky adds with a sigh. “I met Nat in the hospital. She was having her own problems, not my story to tell, honestly. But she got me through it, you know. We didn’t really keep in touch after I got out of the hospital, but when we saw each other again it was like nothing changed, like months hadn’t passed.”

They both stay silent for a little bit. Steve is just looking at Bucky with eyes so bright and honest that it makes the brunet feel so many emotions all at once he doesn’t know what to focus on.

Steve doesn't know what to say. Fuck, he never knows what to say when Bucky opens up because he went through so much shit that Steve could never even imagine living that it takes away Steve's ability to think and speak and fuck, breathe sometimes.

This man standing there, leaning against the fridge like telling Steve he attempted suicide isn't a big deal, this man takes Steve's breath away.

“I found dry clothes that might fit you, if you wanna get changed,” Bucky tell Steve, gesturing to his room. All he wants right now is to get a minute for himself, to consider what just happened.

He never talks about what happened to him then. It was the second worse period of his life and if he could go back in time, he wouldn’t go through with it. It was stupid, really, to think that life wasn’t worth it. Even if the thought comes back to him from time to time, he never considers it. He can’t imagine the state Becca would be in if Natasha would call her to say that he did it this time. He can’t fathom the pain both of them would feel if he did it. He doesn’t even want to think about the pain mixed with disappointment and pity on his parents’ face at his funeral.

He might have tried to commit suicide when he was twenty but he would take it back in a second if he could. But then he wouldn’t. Because it brought him Natasha. And who knows of any of them would’ve gone through with this Marines non-sense if they hadn’t talked about it in the hospital. Or if Nat would even been okay without Bucky there to pull her through as much as she did for him.

So when he thinks about it, he wouldn’t change a thing because everything he went through brought him right here, right now, with the most amazing man he has ever met and he feels alive for the first time in a long, long time.

Steve seems to understand his need to be alone on some level and leaves Bucky with his thoughts to go to the same room Bucky disappeared to less than ten minutes ago. It turns out that it’s Bucky’s bedroom and the first thing his eyes fall on is the piano to is right, just next to the door. There is a pair of sweatpants and a shirt folded neatly on Bucky’s bed but he can’t help but look around for a little bit.

The room isn’t big. It isn’t small per se either but it’s definitely smaller than Steve’s own room. He has a small closet in the wall just behind the door and a big bookcase in the wall opposite from the door. The shelves are filled with books, cd’s, records and pictures. There’s a door to his left leading to an en suite bathroom. But what he focusses on are the notebooks sprawled all over the floor between the bed and the bookshelf. They’re on the carpet, surrounding a guitar that looks at least thirty years old. He lets his fingers softly stroke the strings, letting a few notes escape the instrument. He smiles faintly before turning back to the bed to finally change out of his damp clothes.

Once he has clean, warm and dry clothes on, he picks up his sportswear to find a place to put it. He joins Bucky who is still standing in the middle of the kitchen.

“Where can I put this, man?” Steve asks as he comes to stand next to his friend.

Bucky points to the dryer under next to the dishwasher and says, “Just throw it in there, I’ve put my shit in too.”

As soon as the dryer is on, they move to the couch to put some random TV on while they cuddle the dog. None of them really pay attention to what is happening on the screen in front of them, they just chat about a lot of things.

Bucky can’t quite look at Steve. Not because he’s embarrassed about their previous conversation but because he doesn’t know how to look at the man and not let him emotions seep through. He has never been this way with a guy, or a girl, but right now, all he wants to do is touch Steve in anyway. His eyes fall back to Steve’s lips every couple of minutes, his mind racing.

Meanwhile, Steve can’t stop looking at the other man. Every word he says, Steve’s eyes catch it. Every gesture, every little move he makes, Steve watches it. He doesn’t know how to look at Bucky and not feel all those things he hasn’t felt in so long. He doesn’t know how to stop looking at the man. He isn’t sure he wants to at all. Bucky is all he has been looking for, even if he doesn’t know it.

And Steve is all Bucky has ever needed, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate all of you guys' comments, kudos and bookmarks! You guys are the best!  
> Thanks for hanging in there, I'm gonna try to update faster next time but this summer is gonna be kinda crazy. All the love!  
> Hit me up on tumblr : udontwearmychains.tumblr.com


	8. Every moment's relevant, bittersweet and delicate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally back guys! I'm so sorry for the wait, my head just wasn't in the game lately.  
> Hopefully you guys are still into this!  
> Enjoy!  
> Chapter's title is from 24 Floors by The Maine

Thanksgiving comes and goes faster than Steve thought it would.

He gets to the hospital around ten, when he’s sure his mom will be fully awake. He brings food that he cooked last night at the firehouse, while everyone was asleep, and the smile it brings to Sarah’s face is worth the three hours of sleep he got.

They spend the whole afternoon together, eating as much as they can. Well mostly Steve because as fine as Sarah would like to seem, she is pretty weak. The treatment is making her sick more often than not and her appetite has been close to inexistent in the past few months but she insists on eating a big piece of turkey and as much pumpkin pie as Steve will let her – which, honestly, is the smallest piece that Steve could have given her.

They talk about last year’s Thanksgiving, when Sarah was as okay as she had been in years, back at work. They talk about their last Thanksgiving with Steve’s dad, twenty years ago.

Steve doesn’t really remember anything about the man. To be honest, he sometimes wonders if he ever really knew him at all. He wonders if he really does remember him or if all he thinks he knows about the man is through the stories his mom told him.

For the first two years of his life, his dad was there for every single day. The man saw his son’s first steps, heard his first words, and changed his first diaper. After those two years, Joseph Rogers went back to war.

Steve was too young to understand where his dad went, didn’t really notice for a while. He turned three just after his father left and even though his mom kept telling him his dad was a big hero, like in the movies, fighting the bad guys and all, he couldn’t really understand what it really meant.

When his father came back, eighteen months later, Steve didn’t know what to do. He was happy, because he had missed his father – as much a four-year old boy can miss his dad. Six months later, they moved.

At five years old, it wasn’t a big shock but leaving Brooklyn still wasn’t something he was happy about. His dad had to work on base in Quantico, training new recruits. It was fine for a while but Steve’s father wasn’t the same man who taught him how to walk or how to run or how to say the stupidest things that could make his mom laugh after a tough shift at the hospital.

His dad was a good man broken by war. It wasn’t his fault, really, when he started having nightmares or when he suddenly started getting irritated with Steve and snapping at the kid for no reason.

Sarah didn’t really know what to do so she didn’t do anything. She didn’t blame his husband for the things we was doing because honestly, she couldn’t even imagine what he went through during the Gulf War.

Joseph Rogers worked in Quantico for more than three years before he was sent back overseas. He was deployed just after Thanksgiving, a few months after Steve’s eighth birthday.

It was their last Thanksgiving as a real family. A few months into his deployment, Joseph was killed in action. They never had any real closure because the Marines couldn’t really tell them anything. And it was hard for a while, especially when they decided to move back to Brooklyn leaving all of his dad's memories behind. They did decide to put up a tombstone in the cemetery where Joe's parents were buried. 

Steve has spent most of his life trying to understand what happened. But right now, he’s with his dying mother and he can’t stop thinking about the fact that he shouldn’t be so stuck on something that he cannot change. He wants to make the best of the time he has left.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be tonight, Steven?” Sarah asks when she sees the sun starting to go dim outside the small hospital window.

“Clint asked me to drop by his girlfriend’s place,” Steve says with a sigh. And when his mother asks about it, all he can say is, “I’m not sure I wanna go.”

“Why’s that sweetie?”

“Natasha – Clint’s girl – she has a roommate and I think I kinda have a crush on the guy,” Steve admits softly, looking shyly at his mother. “Actually, I really like him.”

“Is he the guy from the VA?” she wonders, quietly.

“How – yeah it’s him,” Steve tells his mom, looking down at his hands gingerly.

“Get outta here and go see him already,” Sarah says with a happy smile on her face. She just hopes she will get to see her son happy again before she dies. Her whole life, all she has ever wanted was for her son to have a good life with good people surrounding him. And she knows he did for most of his life. He has always had someone looking out for him in one way or another.

“I love you, ma,” he says, getting up from his chair and putting his coat on, “I’ll see you soon.”

Sarah smile and kisses her son on the forehead before he leaves. Steve doesn’t know what to do with himself the whole way down to his car. He has a stupid smile on his face, just thinking about going to see Bucky. When he gets to the parking garage, he sees his car – his dad’s car – and he feels the weight of the whole conversation about his father from this afternoon. When they headed back to New York after his dad’s death, they only real thing they could keep was the car.

When Steve was old enough, he started fixing it as well as he could. He kept fixing the Mustang every time he could, every time he came home from a tour, fixing up his car was an escape. Kind of like painting.

But the car is still here, still working and still what he remembers best about his father. The long drives they used to take, going nowhere really, just wanting to get away. This car has so many memories with his father, it’s insane. They carved their names somewhere in the car once but Steve can’t remember where. Someday, he knows he’ll find it and it will probably make him cry but that’s okay. Because that’s how life goes. You gain some, you lose some.

As soon as Steve is seated in the car, he puts his music on. A soft melody playing in the speakers of the vintage vehicle. He smiles softly and lets to music calm him down for a minute. Once he feels his heartbeat slow down, he drives away from the hospital.

Steve doesn't really understand why the fact that he's gonna spend Thanksgiving with Bucky makes his palms feel clammy. He knows he likes him. Hell, he has probably known since the first time they talked but it doesn't make him any less uneasy.

It wasn't easy for him to admit he likes the man. Saying it out loud - to his mom, of all people - felt good but so terrifying at the same time. Steve is so scared of something going wrong. Of doing something that could drive Bucky away in any way possible. He doesn't want to push Bucky away. He doesn't want to face him and tell him how he feels because he knows the other man won't feel the same.

Rejection is something that always scared Steve. He guesses it comes from the time he was so small and sick that he couldn't do anything by himself. When he was so tiny and awkward that no one would look at him twice - hell, no one looked at him at all.

The first time he was hit on, he thought it was a joke. He was fifteen and barely over five foot. The girl was a year older than him and way out of his league. But she was relentless and after weeks of constant flirting on her part and blabbered answers from Steve, he took her on a date.

It was the worst thing Steve ever did in his life. They had nothing in common and she was so uninteresting that they didn't even go to dinner after going to the movies. She kissed him on the mouth and never spoke to him again.

A year later, he grew almost a foot and a year after that he started getting in shape. At the age of eighteen he was as fit as the whole football team.

When he graduated, he decided to study art in a small community college close to his mom's apartment but a year in his studies his mom got sick and he dropped out instantly. He got a job in a shitty bar but the pay wasn't that bad so he worked as much as he could before deciding that he wanted to give the fire academy a shot.

When he first left for the army, he was scared of leaving his mother. But when she kept telling him that the money he was making was so helpful, he felt less guilty.

As he parks in front of Bucky and Natasha's building, he takes a deep breath before getting out of the car and into the lobby. Natasha gave him the code a couple weeks ago, when Bucky wasn't showing up to Steve's place and he was just so worried.

Bucky was simply asleep on the couch, having finally found sleep after a night full of nightmares and panic attacks.

Steve knocks softly on the door and is welcomed by a smiling Bucky and a yapping dog. He isn't sure he has ever seen a smile that big on Bucky's face before and it makes Steve grin instantly.

"Hey," Bucky says in a murmur.

"Hi," Steve says back, entering the apartment and softly touching Bucky's right shoulder. He knows his fingers linger a little too long but he doesn't care and the other man doesn't seem to mind either so he allows himself to squeeze lightly before letting his hand fall back, away from Bucky.

As soon as he tears his eyes away from Bucky, Steve can hear Clint and Natasha bickering in the kitchen so he heads that way and traps the man in a hug from behind as soon as he gets inside the room.

Clint lets out the funniest squeal Steve as ever heard in his life which makes Natasha crack up.

"Best sniper the Marines have ever known right here," Steve says teasingly as he releases his friend and goes to give Nat a quick hug.

"Actually, best sniper the Marines have known in the last ten years is standin' behind you," he hears Bucky say from the entrance of the room. He has a cocky smirk on his face and his left eyebrow lifted as a way of saying 'try and say I'm wrong' which makes Steve release a soft chuckle.

"I demand a face-off," Clint exclaims with a finger pointing at Bucky. "I'm sure I can beat your ass," he adds with a smirk and his head held up high.

"I'm up for it if Steve and Nat agree to spar so we know who's better at MMA," Bucky says with a victorious smile thrown Natasha's way.

"Now this is getting interesting", Clint says, leaning against his best friend. "She's totally gonna win," he fake-whispers.

It makes the three of them laugh faintly before the couple turns back to their food and shoos the two other men out of the kitchen. They settle on the couch with a beer each, Winter laying between them, nuzzling Bucky’s thigh. They don't really talk for a while, staring at the football game playing on the TV screen.

"How's your day been so far?" Bucky asks without really taking his eyes off the television.

"Good. I was with my mom, it was good," Steve says with a small smile on his face, turning slowly to face Bucky, scratching behind Winter’s ears softly as she's laying down on his lap. "What about you?"

"It's been okay. I got my sister and my parents on the phone earlier, it’d been a while," Bucky says with a distant smile on his face. "Becca might visit for Christmas."

"For real? That's great," Steve excitedly tells him, a big smile on his face. "I know how you've been missing her."

Bucky softly nods before looking back at the television. After spending a minute or two watching Bucky’s profile, Steve’s eyes settle on the screen, only now noticing that they’re watching the game.

He hears Bucky inhale and open his mouth to say something when there’s a knock on the door.

“Must be Sam,” he says as he gets up and goes get the door. As he opens it, Sam is indeed on the other side of the threshold smiling broadly and holding a six pack of beer in each hand. Bucky lets him in with a slap on the shoulder and a quick hello. “You can put that in the kitchen, man,” Bucky adds with a small motion to the beer.

“Hey Steve, good to see you, bro,” Sam tells his friend, letting a hand drop to his shoulder for a rapid second, squeezing lightly. Steve nods at the gesture and smiles at his friend as Bucky comes back to the couch and sits at the exact same spot as earlier. He slightly turns towards Steve again and sighs. Steve can see that the other man wants to say something, _needs_ to, but can’t bring himself to just say it.

Bucky looks so beautiful right now, torn between saying something and looking back at the TV without letting a word out of his mouth. Who is he kidding? Bucky always looks beautiful. But what makes him beautiful isn’t only how he looks or how he stands or, fuck, how he talks. It’s every little thing that makes him _Bucky_.

It’s the way he smiles when he talks about Natasha or the way he looks down and away when he talks about war or the soft look in his eyes when he tells Steve about the memories he can’t recall. It’s the scars that litter his body and tell so many stories just by being there. It’s the glove that covers his hand all the time but is never there when he’s with Steve and the way his hair always hides the scars of his neck except when he’s in a place where he feels safe.

It’s the fact that being with Steve makes him feel safe enough to let him see things that he barely even dares to mention with anyone else other than Natasha.

It’s the combination of all those things that creates butterflies in Steve’s stomach every time he looks at Bucky, every time he’s near him.

Sam enters the room with three beers in his hand and gives one to each man on the couch. He takes a seat in the armchair on Bucky’s right while he starts commenting on the game happening on TV.

“How’s work going?” Sam asks, turning to Steve with a big smile on his face. They haven’t seen each other in a while, with Steve being busy with work, his mom and Bucky and Sam visiting his family in DC and going on an endless streak of bad dates.

“It’s good! Nothing too bad lately and thank god I’m not on the Thanksgiving shift this year, that’s one of the worst day of the year,” Steve says with a chuckle.

Thanksgiving is always so busy. Between people trying to find the dumbest way to cook a turkey, family reunions gone wrong and drunk people driving home after a full day of eating and drinking. He really isn’t sorry he switched shifts back in January.

“What about you, man? How was DC?”

“Work is just fine and DC was crazy. They tried to get me to stay until tomorrow but honestly, I’m not strong enough for another Thanksgiving with the Wilsons,” he answers with a small laugh. Steve knows that his friend doesn’t mean it and if he didn’t have obligations this morning or the next day, he would have stayed in Washington for a few more days.

“The VA has been insane lately. A couple battalions came back from Iraq last week and a lot of them ended up in Brooklyn, go figure,” he adds, chuckling. “I’ve been doing a lot of consults, a lot of group sessions.”

“Sorry I haven’t been around to help,” Steve says sheepishly, looking down at his hands.

“No worries, man. I know you’ve been busy,” Sam answers, glancing subtly at Bucky with a smirk. That makes Steve blush and Bucky just grinned.

“If you two could stop being disgustingly cute, I’d appreciate it,” Natasha tells Steve and Bucky when she enters the room with plates in her hands. She sets them down on the table then turns to the TV. “Turn this shit up and come have dinner.”

The three men get up without complaining and go to the table to help Natasha and Clint set it up. A few minutes later, when Sam puts the last dish on the table, he sits with everyone else around the table, and they start to talk animatedly.

“Okay, I’m starving,” Bucky says standing up. “I haven’t celebrated Thanksgiving in a long time but I know we aren’t eating until this shit’s done so,” he looks at everyone around the table. “I’m thankful for – I’m thankful to have you in my life. This year hasn’t been easy and I couldn’t have made it without any of you. So thanks.”

Natasha, who is sitting next to him, grabs his hand softly. When he looks at her, she has the kindest smile he has ever seen on her face. It makes his eyes water but before he can let any tear fall, he looks away and clears his throat.

“Let’s not make a big deal out of it, I’m too hungry,” he adds, nodding at Steve, who is sitting on his left. The blond acknowledges Bucky, gesturing for him to sit back down, which he does.

They all proceed to say the things they are grateful for, which sound about the same. They’re all thankful for each other, for the friends they have and what life brought this year. Once Natasha finishes speaking, Bucky starts to fill his plate with everything he can reach then passing the dishes around the table.

They eat and talk for hours, until they’re so full they can’t put one more thing in their mouth without vomiting immediately. Bucky, Natasha and Sam find themselves on the couch, leaned back as far as they can without falling off. Winter is stretched over Bucky and Natasha, snoring quietly. Steve and Clint are chatting at the table, trying not to disturb the others on the sofa.

“Steve, man, you need to get your shit together,” Clint whispers.

“What are you on about?” Steve asks, playing dumb. He peeks at Bucky from where he’s sitting, watching the man pet his dog with his eyes closed.

“Yeah, obviously,” the man snorts quietly. “Listen, anyone with eyes can see how much you like the guy, so do something about it.”

Steve can see Bucky’s head slightly turn to the two other men so he doesn’t say anything more, just turns back to Clint and signs “too soon”. Clint looks surprised that Steve can still use sign language which makes Steve smile. Steve gets up and lets himself fall on the armchair next to Bucky. From the corner of his eyes, he can see Clint’s smirk. Bucky opens his evens and looks over at Steve for a second before looking down at Winter.

They all sit in a comatose state for a few hours watching TV and quietly talking. Some of them fall asleep at some point, never all at the same time though.

The next morning, when Steve gets to work, he still thinks about Bucky’s smile when he let him out of his apartment.

When he enters the firehouse, Parker is making breakfast. Everyone from Truck is sitting to his right while everyone from Squad is on his left. Brock throws him a mean look, like every day but Steve acts like he doesn’t see it and goes up to the counter to grab a cup of coffee. His lieutenant comes up to him, smiling gently.

“Steve, can I have a word?” Rhodes asks, nodding to the conference room to their right.

Steve mumbles a “sure” and follows his lieutenant. He’s suddenly very nervous and he can feel his hands getting sweaty.

“You’ve been doin’ a great job lately. Actually, _you_ have been doin’ better,” he says, putting his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “You’ve come a long way, Steve.”

Steve finally relaxes and he lets out a sigh.

“Thanks, Rhodes. Means a lot.”

The lieutenant smiles at him before going back to the kitchen as Steve heads to the locker room to change and drop his bag.

When he heads back to the common room, there’s a plate full of food waiting for him. He thanks Peter and sits down next to Pietro. All the men talk about their Thanksgiving dinner, the food they ate, the people they were with.

Halfway through his meal, the alarm blares off over their head for a kitchen fire down in Flatbush.

Once they’re in the truck, it takes them twenty minutes to get to the fire, which is almost under control. Lieutenant Rhodes goes inside the house with Rogers to assess the situation and once it’s done, he sends a couple more, Hill and Parker, to vent the kitchen by breaking the windows.

The fire spread more than they thought and once the apparent flames are put out, Steve and his lieutenant notice the fire got inside the wall behind the stove. They break the wall with their halligan bars then Rhodes orders Odinson to bring a hose. Once that is done, he calls Maximoff over the radio to send the water.

They work quickly to put out the fire and once there are no more flames, they see the source of the fire.

An old toaster is plugged in a hazardous socket. That’s what caused the fire on the stove and the electrical fire in the wall.

They unplug the toaster to make sure it doesn’t short-circuit again then they all get back into the truck and drive back to the fire house.

As his boots touch the apparatus floor, Steve starts taking his gear off and hangs his turnout coat on the truck’s door. He waits for his colleagues to finish as well. Once he gets through the door, the only thing he can see is Bucky. Seating next to him on the sofa is Lieutenant Odinson, casually petting the brunet’s dog.

Steve slowly walks up to the couch and lets himself fall next to Bucky, a big smile on his face.

“Hey, Buck,” he says smoothly, “what’re you doin’ here?”

“I was bored outta my mind, thought I’d tag along,” Bucky answer lightly, looking up at where Jane and Darcy are seated at the table next to the couch. “If the offer still stands, that is,” he adds, gingerly.

“The offer always stands, Buckster,” Darcy says with a smirk.

Bucky softly nods and looks down at the puppy on his lap, petting her, before looking back up at Steve and whispering, “This okay with you?”

Steve doesn’t answer. He simply nods with a grin on his face and a twinkle in his eyes. He subtly scoots closer to Bucky and lets a hand fall on the dog’s head, scratching it slowly.

They don’t say much for a while, the chatter around them filling the silence between the two men. Bucky joined the conversation a little while later, allowing Steve to just cuddle with Winter in silence while cautiously looking at Bucky.

It’s around eleven when a call comes in. Everyone gets up quickly, heading for the door when Steve realizes that Bucky is still on the couch.

“Get to the ambo, Winter can stay here with Janet, she’s the chief’s secretary,” Steve says, clapping Bucky’s shoulder before running the his truck to get his gear on. As he steps into the firetruck, he sees Bucky get on the passenger seat of the ambulance while Jane is hopping in the back.

They all drive away to the fire. When they get there, it is out of control. It is an apartment fire so they need to go in for a search and rescue. Chief Fury orders Lieutenants Odinson and Rhodes to each take one of their men inside for a primary search while Peter and Loki vent the roof. Thor, James, Steve and Scott head inside the building as they put their oxygen masks on. Rhodes and Steve go up the stairs while Thor and Scott search the ground floor.

“Fire department, call out,” Rhodes says as they step into the corridor. They try to move further into the corridor but the smoke is too thick so they get their thermos cameras out. They get to the first door and kick it down before moving inside the apartment.

Once they make sure this floor is clear, they head to the next one where they catch up with Odinson and Lang. As they kick in the second door, they find a man passed out on the floor in the kitchen. Steve calls it over the radio and Scott evacuates the injured man out of the building.

They continue the search but they don’t find anyone else so they start to head out.

“Smoke’s turning black,” they hear the chief over the radio, “everybody out, _now_!”

“On our way, boss,” Thor replies.

Steve follows the lieutenants down the stairs when he feels the wood give way underneath him. He tries to warn the other men but it’s too late, the stairs fall apart and he drops to the basement.

He’s on his back, trapped under a beam. He can hear everything but he can’t move. He can’t breathe, he can’t speak but he sure as hell can hear.

“Mayday, mayday,” he hears Rhodes say over the radio, “Firefighter down. Rogers is down.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again for how long it took me to update, it won't happen again! I'm at a point in the story where I'm really gonna be able move forward. Please stick with me  
> Kudos and comments are much appreciated, thank you!


	9. We are alone, but we're not lonely

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW : reference to past suicide attempt  
> I've made a few edits in the previous chapters, nothing serious really! I added a couple of warning to some chapters because I noticed I didn't do it before.  
> I hope you'll like this  
> Title from Fucked Up Kids by The Maine

Bucky can't breathe.

All he can hear is people saying Steve's name, saying he's down, stuck, immobile, injured. _What if he's dead?_

Fucking hell, what happened? How the fuck did this happen? He feels like he's back in Afghanistan or Iraq or wherever else he has been with the Marines. It feels like he's in the middle of a battle field all over again. He feels like he's in a place he can't remember being but the pain - the pain is so fucking real.

He finally breathes correctly when Steve's voice comes through the radio. Bucky feels like his heart is beating again.

"I can't move the beam, something is blocking it," Steve voice says hoarsely.

"We're coming for you man," Lang says in his radio.

Bucky can see Rumlow and Quill head into the building with ropes and harnesses before disappearing through the door.

Thor secures the ropes, attaches them to his harness then gets lowered down by his men.

"Okay Chief, I'm with Rogers, I'm gon' try to lift the beam on my own," Odinson says in his radio. He looks up at his men then down at Steve. "Guys, be ready to send someone down here in case I can't move it."

He approaches a restless Steve, inspecting the situation and trying to figure out how to remove the beam without hurting Rogers.

"Need a hand with that, asshole?" Thor says with a smile on his face. The firefighter can see Steve laugh a little before wincing and glaring at him.

"Don't make me laugh and help me out."

Thor tries to lift the beam off of Steve, tries pushing it but it doesn't move. Both men do all they can to remove the piece of wood but it stays unmoving. Steve looks around the room, tries to see through the smoke.

"Try to tie your rope around it, the guys can pull it off from up there," he says, looking at Thor promptly.

The lieutenant nods, knowing his men heard him through the radio. He fastens his rope around the beam and tells his men to pull. Finally, to everyone's relief, it moves.

The beam slides along Steve's legs, to his feet, then Thor and himself are able to lift it over his feet to free him completely.

Odinson slides a harness on Steve and attaches the second rope to it. Steve pulls on it once it's secure and his fellow firefighters pull him up. He's put on a backboard and carried outside by Rhodes and Lang while the two other guys pull Thor back up.

As soon as Steve is out of the building, he's put on a gurney and examined by Jane and Darcy. Bucky is right behind the two women and he can't take his eyes off of Steve. He can't look away because Steve is here, Steve is breathing, Steve is okay.

As the paramedics take Steve's head-gear off, his head slowly turns towards Bucky and they stare at each other for a couple of second.

 _'All good,'_ Steve signs and Bucky can't help but let out a sigh of relief.

Soon enough, they roll Steve in the ambulance. Bucky finally moves after what feels like hours and heads to the passenger seat of the vehicle but as he passes the open back doors, Steve takes off the oxygen mask on his face and calls Bucky over quietly.

Bucky turns over and leans against the rig. His eyes finally roam over Steve's figure and he notices the blood on his hands and the cut on his neck.

"Hop on here," Steve says with a shy smile on his face.

"You good?" he asks, doing what he's told.

"Been better," Steve answers, looking down at his hands. "Fuck, the first time you come hang out on the job and this happens? I'm so sorry Buck, it -"

"Jesus Steve, shut up! I'm just glad you're okay," Bucky says, squeezing Steve's hand lightly.

"I'm fine, I'm good," Steve answers. "Taking me to the hospital, that's formalities. They have to do it. But I ain't injured, I swear."

Bucky nods frantically, as the ambulance takes off. Darcy is in the back with them, looking at Steve's legs, making sure nothing is wrong. Making sure he's all good. In the front, Bucky can hear Jane call into the ER saying they're coming in with an injured firefighter.

Bucky wants to cry.

He wants to relieve all the stress and anxiety and pain and _relief_ he has been feeling for the last ten minutes.

Jesus, it was only ten minutes ago that he heard Steve's fall over the radio. It felt like forever. It felt like time had stopped but it only took five minutes for them to get Steve out. Five fucking minutes.

They arrive at the hospital pretty quickly after that. Steve is rolled in an examination room while Bucky hangs back with Jane and Darcy.

When the doctors are done with Steve, Bucky and the girls go into his room. They stay for a few minutes before they need to head back to the firehouse.

The minute Bucky's feet touch the apparatus floor, Winter runs to him. They go inside to update the others but once it's done, Bucky ducks out of the common room and goes to sit in the weight room.

He gets his phone out and sees that Steve already texted him that he'll be released in a couple of hours.

> Bucky: I'll come get you

Winter enters the room as Bucky is putting his phone back in his pocket. She runs to him and tries to jump on his lap until Bucky just lifts her and sits her there. She licks his face in an attempt to settle his shaking hands but it doesn't work.

He knows it's stupid because Steve is fine and _safe_ but the fear that took control of his body when Steve was in that building was worse than anything he felt in a long time.

An hour later, a new call comes in, but Bucky decides to wait at the house, not wanting to be late to pick Steve up from the ER. He just sits on the couch, watching TV and petting Winter.

A woman enters the house, looks around then she sighs and just sits next to Bucky. She's a tall brunette dressed in black and burgundy. She has an annoyed look on her face but seems a little worried nonetheless

They don't say a word for a few minutes then she turns to him and smiles.

"Hey", she says in a soft voice and a faint eastern European accent, "I'm Wanda. Pietro is my brother."

"Yeah, the accent kinda gave that away," Bucky says with a smirk. He extends his hand to her and smiles. "I'm Bucky, I'm a friend of Steve's."

They chat for a few minutes until Bucky's phone starts going off on the table in front of them. He glances at his phone and a little smile appears on his face when he sees Steve's name on the screen. He takes his phone and picks up.

"Hey man," he says softly.

"Hey Buck," Steve says and Bucky can hear him smile and it makes him smile even bigger. "I've signed the papers already so I'm ready when you are."

"Oh, yeah, I'm leaving now. See you in ten," he says and hangs up when Steve says it's all good.

He pockets his phone and gets up, feeling Wanda's eyes on him. He turns around and sees her looking at him, a little smirk on her face.

"What?"

"Nothing," she answers as she puts her hands up in defense. "Does he know you like him?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Bucky says as he exits the common room.

He can hear Wanda laughing softly behind him but he doesn't care and he and his dog head to his car. Once he's inside, he takes a minute to regroup then turn the ignition on before leaving the parking lot.

He knows he likes Steve. He does. He never really denied it to himself, only to anyone and everyone else. He just never thought it was that obvious because of it was, Steve would've caught on by now and he never said anything. That could only mean one thing. Steve wasn't interested.

But maybe Steve hadn't caught on and maybe Bucky still has a chance.

When Bucky arrives at the hospital, Steve is already waiting for him out front. He quickly gets in the car, saying a soft 'thank you' and nothing else. Bucky just nods and starts driving towards Steve's place.

They sit in silence for the whole ride, both of the men lost deep in their thoughts. The only sounds between them are the music playing softly through the speakers and Winter's panting.

They don't say a word until they're in Steve's living room, starting at nothing in particular.

"I'm sorry you had to see all that," Steve says gingerly, finally looking Bucky in the eyes.

"I told you," Bucky answers, "it's fine. I'm just glad you're all good," he continues, getting closer and closer to Steve. "You scared the shit outta me."

"Didn't mean to," Steve responds, gravitating towards Bucky as well.

Bucky keeps getting closer to Steve, his hands coming up to touch Steve's cut on his neck. They're getting closer and closer and for a moment, Bucky thinks this is it, it's happening. But then Steve's phone goes off, his ringtone sounding more like an alarm than anything else and they step away from each other.

Steve answers his phone with a deep frown on his face. Bucky doesn't pay attention to what Steve is saying nor is he trying to figure who is on the other side of the conversation.

When Steve hangs up, Bucky is putting the leash back on his dog's collar.

"You leavin'?" Steve asks, his frown deepening visibly.

"Yeah, I should let you rest. I have stuff to do anyway," Bucky responds, with a small awkward smile on his lips.

Steve nods and goes to hug Bucky but he puts a hand up slowly, stopping Steve.

"Don't wanna hurt your ribs man," he explains softly. "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

Steve nods, a weird look and his face and just waves at Bucky as he leaves.

Bucky feels bad for blowing him off like that but he thinks it was for the best. Steve isn't in his right mind. He's in pain and injured and tired. Bucky isn't about to take advantage of that.

But _fuck_ , he really wanted to kiss Steve.

Bucky doesn't text Steve the next day. He doesn't make any plan to see him, he just spends his day in the couch with junk food and his dog and when he can't shut his brain off, he heads to the gym. He works out for a while.

It takes his mind off of things. It clears his head. It always has.

When he heads home, it's already dark outside and Natasha is there, making dinner because she's the best roommate to ever exist.

They sit together in the kitchen and eat in silence as they both know the other isn't in a good mood to talk about anything, even about nothing.

Bucky does the dishes while Natasha cleans the worktop and when they're done, they just silently hug each other and say goodnight before they both retreat to their respective bedrooms.

Bucky takes his laptop from the top of his piano and lays in bed with it. He starts looking up a bunch of stuff and he ends up stumbling across a website about paramedical courses. He looks deeper into the website to find out that he only needs to take classes for a couple of months at the fire academy. Being a veteran is actually useful as he is already trained in most of the emergency treatments.

He looks up the next class and sees that registration is still open for the class starting in mid December.

He has two weeks to get part of his shit together because he's pretty sure there will be a psych evaluation at some point and he isn't sure he can pass it right now but he'll sure as hell try.

There's one thing Bucky isn't and that's a quitter.

When he wakes up the next morning he feels like shit about ignoring Steve yesterday. The guy didn't do anything wrong. And he's injured and alone and here Bucky is, blowing him off. He's a shitty friend.

After taking a shower, he calls Steve knowing he has today's shift off after what happened.

Steve picks up at the last moment, sounding out of breath. It makes Bucky chuckle a little.

"What you doin' Stevie?" he asks teasingly.

"I'm jogging, jerk," Steve answers, a laugh following the statement. "What can I do for you?"

"Wanna hang out?"

When Natasha comes home, it's to find two fully grown men asleep on the couch, snuggled close together. She just chuckles under her breath before heading to her room to get changed.

Once she's wearing more comfortable clothes, she goes into the kitchen to try to figure out what to make for dinner. As she steps into the living room, Bucky is slowly getting up to join her.

They both seat at the kitchen table and start chatting about their day.

"So," Natasha starts with a smirk painted on her features, "sup with you and Steve back there?"

Bucky sighs and rolls his eyes but doesn't answer. Instead, he gets her talking about Clint and how everything has been going between them for the past month.

She humors him for a few minutes before giving him her 'don't bullshit me Barnes' look.

"Okay," Bucky says, looking down at his hands, "okay. We almost kissed the other day but it didn't happen. I kinda freaked out and left."

Natasha looks at him with that exasperated look on her face. When Bucky doesn't say anything more, she takes it as her cue to start talking.

"Can you two just bang and cut the shit out with this sexual tension?" she says, staring him down with that glare that Bucky can't help but squirm under.

Shit, she has so much control over him it scares him sometimes. She has ever since they first met all those years ago.

The first time Bucky saw Natasha in that awful place, she had just came in. Bucky had been at the hospital for a few days and the second he saw her seating alone in the middle of the common room he had been drawn to her.

That night, they stayed up until five in the morning and talked about a world they wished they lived in. They spent the night opening up to each other and telling their darkest, deepest secrets to one another.

It's the first time that Natasha trusted someone. And honestly, Bucky has never trusted anyone so fast, so freely and completely. Until he met Steve two months ago. And seeing the way Natasha is looking at her, he knows her mind took her to the same place, to the same conclusion.

As she's about to say something more but noise suddenly come from the living room. Bucky leans back on his chair to peek into the adjacent room and sees Steve get up from the floor.

"You okay there, buddy?" Bucky asks with a soft chuckle.

"'M good, just slipped," Steve mumbles in answer as he joins them in the kitchen.

Natasha looks at the both of them, shaking her head before getting up to search the fridge for anything to eat but it's empty, all the Thanksgiving leftover gone.

"Did you two eat everything in there this afternoon?" she asks them, one eyebrow cocked and a hand on her hip.

Steve looks down guiltily and Bucky just smirks at her, nodding.

"Ugh, boys," she says, closing the refrigerator, reaching for her phone on the table. She pulls up the number for their favorite Chinese takeout and dials it. "What do you guys want?" she questions the two men as the phone starts ringing.

"Michael and Ping's?" Bucky asks. The nod he receives from Natasha puts a smile on his face. "The usual."

Natasha nods again then turns to Steve, looking at him intently. She starts ordering for Bucky, then for herself before setting her eyes back on Steve.

"Get me chicken dumplings and chicken Lo Mein."

The redhead says it back then hangs up.

The three of them go sit in the living room and put an episode of Friends on while waiting for their takeout. They're at the end of the second episode when the intercom starts buzzing. Steve gets up and takes the elevator down to the lobby to pay and collect the food.

Once he gets back in the apartment, Bucky launches at Steve so he can grab the food from he hands before collapsing on the couch. He opens his spring rolls' container and moans around the first bite.

Steve laughs faintly before taking back his spot on the couch next to Bucky. He hands her food to Natasha before looking through his own. He picks up a dumpling and the moment he starts chewing on it, his eyes grow twice their size and a surprised sound escapes his mouth before he can stop it.

"Fuck," he says after swallowing his bite. "This is so good, what the fuck?"

Bucky has a full spring roll in his mouth but somehow manages to laughs anyway. Natasha just chuckles, not saying a word but her eyes full of laughter.

"Best Chinese food round here, man," Bucky says as soon as he can.

They spend the next ten minutes in total silence, enjoying their food without a word.

When Bucky puts his empty container on the table, right after Steve, they start chatting again. Natasha asks Steve is everything is okay with him after his accident a couple of days ago so they talk about the job for a little while. Steve explains that he's all good, all he had were bruised ribs but nothing else.

"While we're on the subject," Bucky starts before looking down at his laps, "I've been thinking of something and I wanna talk to you guys 'bout it."

Bucky slowly turns towards him with a curious look on his face while Natasha urges her best friend to go on. Bucky takes a deep breath before looking from Nat to Steve and back.

"I've been looking into getting my EMT certification," he continues with a shy little smile on his face.

Natasha's face stays the same but Bucky can see the surprise in her eyes. On the other hand, Steve's astonishment is very clear on his features. Bucky doesn't know what to feel, what to make of their reactions. He softly clears his throat and shakes his head, looking away from his friends.

He goes to get up and leave the room but Steve's hand on his arm stops him to go any further.

"It's good," Steve finally says, letting go of Bucky's forearm.

"Bucky, it sounds like a great idea," the redhead says, a smile finally make its way on her lips. "How long have you been sitting on this?"

"Well, it's been goin' round in my head for a little while but –" Bucky looks up in Steve's blue eyes but quickly looks down. "Being in that ambo the other day, seeing what they do for real, seeing them help Steve. I don't know, it made me wanna be a part of it."

And that's all, they don't question him more, they just listen to him and tell him it's a great idea.

Bucky explains that the next class will start in a couple of weeks and last for about two months but he'll be exempted from a few classes because he's already trained for those particular things. He'll still have to take the exam and complete his certification with at least a month of field work in a firehouse either in the city or in the suburbs.

"I'm really proud of you for doin' this," Steve says the second the door to Natasha's room closes behind her.

Bucky softly nods, not knowing not to say to that. He looks at Steve and he can feel the faintest blush starting to color his cheeks so he looks down.

"Come here, you idiot," Steve suggests as he opens his arms for Bucky to just hug him already.

Bucky snuggles close to Steve's chest, smiling to himself when the blond's arms close around his chest.

It feels so good to be there, close to Steve, feeling nothing but the other man's heart beat. He can honestly say it's the calmest he has felt in a long, long time. And he's so fucking glad it's Steve that makes him feel this way. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I appreciate all this so much! Love you guys


	10. I know it takes some time to find the light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's anew chapter, finally!  
> I hope I'll find the time to write during the holiday, but no promises.  
> Thank you so much for the kudos, comments, bookmarks and all that, it really mean a lot  
> Chapter's title from Eyes Closed bu State Champs  
> TW: talk of past torture, brief mention of suicidal thoughts and talk of war related injuries

In the weeks following Thanksgiving, Steve and Bucky don't manage to see much of each other. Between Bucky being busy with his classes and Steve picking up an extra shift every weekend they hardly find time to hang out at all.  

Bucky has been spending most of his nights on his own, with his dog, Natasha spending all the time she has with Clint at his apartment. To be honest, Bucky is feeling quite lonely but his best friend's happiness is more important than his sorry ass. Plus, all his free time has been devoted to studying so really, he didn't have that much time to feel sorry for himself. 

He has surprisingly been spending a lot of time with Wanda, after finding out that she was taking classes at the community college right next to the fire academy. They meet everyday after class at the café up the street from Wanda's school. 

She helps, she really does. She doesn't know what it's like to endure what he went through but she doesn't push, doesn't ask, and when Bucky feels like talking about something, he does and she listens without saying a word. She hugs him sometimes, when the man is really shaken. But most of the time, they just talk about schoolwork and their teenage years. 

Bucky finds out that she – and Pietro – was born in Bulgaria and grew up in an orphanage up until they were fourteen, when they were adopted by a family living in the suburbs of Chicago. It wasn't easy for them, getting into a country they barely knew the language of, but they managed, they always did, because they had each other. High school wasn't painless, in fact, it was really hard. Pietro and Wanda were the outcasts, the odd ones out.  The twins relocated to New York, as well as their parents, when Pietro was offered a candidate position in the FDNY five years ago. 

Wanda and Bucky chat in Russian sometimes, kind of broken on her part, her native language being similar but not identical to Bucky's. They understand each other enough though and that's all that matters to be honest.   

"So," Wanda says when she sits down on a chair opposite Bucky with a sigh. "Wanna get plastered tonight?" she asks with a sly smile on her face.  

It's a Saturday afternoon, the two friends meeting up so Bucky can help Wanda to study for the biology midterm she has on Monday morning. They do that a lot. She helps him with a few classes too, remembering what she studied with Pietro years ago so it's a win/win situation for each of them. 

Bucky looks around him when Wanda is silent, getting all of her books out of her bag, and the man smiles like a child. There is snow all over the streets outside the café and Bucky loves it. It reminds him of Russia. It grounds him. 

The snow is something he has always loved – almost. He loved it when he was a kid in Brooklyn and his parents let him play outside with his friends for hours at the time. He hated it the first year he got to Russia though. He didn't have any friends to fight with, his sister being too young to play with him. It quickly changed and now, snow is something he waits around all year for.  

"Hell yes," he answers with a wicked grin. Because if there is anything that Bucky loves more than snow, it's getting drunk with his friends. "Pietro coming along?" Bucky asks, hoping his hidden question is going unnoticed. _Is Steve coming along?_  

Wanda lets a little smirk slip though and Bucky instantly knows she understood what he really meant by that. 

"Yes, Pietro is coming with the guys. And _yes_ , Steve knows I'm coming with you." 

Bucky smiles against his own will but he can't stop it now. He hasn't seen Steve in almost two weeks and it's killing him. He misses the guy so damn much. 

"Good," Bucky answers with a small nod. 

They finally get around to work on Wanda's biology course. They stay at the café for about four hours before parting ways with a promise of meeting at Thor and Loki's dad's bar near Prospect Park an hour later.  

It leaves Bucky enough time to go home, heat up so Chinese leftover before getting ready to head out.  

After his shower, he puts boxers on and stands in front of his closet, staring at the clothes in it without the slightest idea of what to pick out. He wants to wear something nice but he doesn't want it to seem like he's trying too hard. He's considering just bailing on Wanda when he hears the front door open and Natasha's footsteps get closer to his room.  

"Get in here," Bucky calls to his best friend when he hears her heading to her own room.  

She pops her head through the door and snorts when she sees the state Bucky is. Natasha sits on Bucky's bed and cocks an eyebrow at him, waiting for an explanation.  

"I'm going out," Bucky stars, an unimpressed look on his face, "Steve'll be there." 

Natasha only hums in understanding before getting up to look through her friend's closet. She looks around, finally picking Bucky's skinniest pair of black jeans, ripped at the knee, a dark blue button down shirt before rummaging through Bucky's shoes. She looks at Bucky's legs now confined in tight black jeans and nods to herself before taking black dress boots and putting them down next to Bucky.  

"This looks real good," Bucky says, eyeing himself in the mirror when he finishes lacing up his boots. 

Nat always knows what fits Bucky best, he doesn't know how he has ever gotten laid before Natasha was around to _dress_ him. And Bucky can't deny the fact that those jeans make his ass and thighs look _amazing_. The color of his shirt brings out his eyes and when he tops it off with his black biker jacket, he knows damn well he will look great.  

"If Steve doesn't drop to his knees when he sees you, the boy is out of his goddamn mind," Natasha says, looking her friend up and down, appreciating the view and nodding to herself.  

Bucky grunts and turns to Natasha with a sheepish look on his face. With a little smile on his face, he asks, "Will you do my hair?" 

"Come here, you dork," she answers with a small laugh. She grabs Bucky's hairbrush and a hairband from the bathroom before sitting on the bed behind Bucky. She softly brushes his hair before running her fingers through it to put them in place. Bucky hums low in his throat so she keeps on doing it for a couple of minutes before finally tying the hair in a bun at the back of Bucky's head. A few strands falling off to frame his face. 

He hasn't worn his hair up in so long, not anywhere out of the confines of his or Steve's place. He knows his scars aren't as visible with the collar of his shirt hiding most of it, but not all, and he knows they can't be mistaken for anything else than what they are. 

He is over being ashamed or scared of showing his scars. They are a part of him, a part of what he went through and fuck it if he isn't going to be proud of being alive.  

Bucky meets the twins in front of the bar twenty minutes later. Wanda hugs him lightly before dropping a kiss on the man's cheek. Pietro slaps his right shoulder and smiles at him before guiding them into the bar. 

The first thing he sees as he steps in is an empty chair facing the door, its back against the far wall. The second thing he notices is that sit being right next to Steve. He looks at Bucky from head to toes before he smiles at him sort of shyly and Bucky returns one of his own the exact same way. The twins and himself walk over to the table where the Odinson brothers, Jane, Darcy, Rhodey, Maria and Scott are sitting, surrounding Steve.  

Bucky takes the spot next to Steve, dropping a hand to the blond's shoulder while saying hi to everyone else around the table.  

Steve slides a beer to Bucky without saying a word but with a knowing smile on his lips. 

"How have you been, Buck?" Steve asks as soon as everyone around the table is deep in different conversations.  

"Pretty good, actually," Bucky answers with a smile. "What 'bout you?" 

"M'fine," Steve says looking down at his hands, fiddling with the label on his bottle. "Missed ya," he adds, still not looking at Bucky. 

"Missed you too, punk." 

Steve finally looks up at Bucky through his lashes, a bashful smile lighting up his features. Damn, he has missed seeing that smile.  

The conversation around the table is flowing easily, everyone taking part in it, one way or another. Wanda starts telling everyone how Bucky has been helping with her midterms because he is so damn clever and remembers it all from college ten years ago. All Bucky can do is smile sheepishly, feeling Steve's eyes on him but not daring to look at him. 

Thor asks how his classes are going, which launches the guys into retelling stories of their own time at the Academy. Bucky learns that Scott, Loki and Thor all went through it together, graduating at the same time. They all went to different houses around the city but years later, they ended up back in the same place together.  

When his third beer is empty, Bucky gets up and goes to the bar to buy a round for everybody, taking a glass of whisky for himself as well as Steve. As he gets back to the table, Steve gives him the shiniest smile he has ever seen and, _fuck_ , it feels like a punch in the throat. 

When the conversation starts to diverge to a subject Bucky can't really understand, he goes outside to have a smoke and get some air. 

As soon as the cold air hits his face, he lets out a sigh of relief and gets his smokes out. He quickly lights one and lets his back fall against the wall with a thud.  

Just as he is about to light up his second cigarette, he hears the door open and out comes Steve, a dumb ass smile on his face. He stands next to Bucky, grabbing his cigarette, taking a drag before handing it back. 

"You know," Steve says, letting the smoke out of his lungs, "I'm real happy to see you." 

Bucky chuckles, smoke escaping through his nose. "Me too, Stevie, me too." 

"So," Steve starts, "you and Wanda, uh?" 

Bucky frowns, looking at Steve while inhaling the last of his cigarette. As he throws it away, and exhales, he looks away. 

"What d'you mean?" 

"Well, you guys look tight," Steve explains, leaning on his side so he can face Bucky. "She seems to really like you." 

Bucky can't help but laugh at that. His laugh so loud it startles him, not having laughed so spontaneously in a long, long time. Steve face looks shocked and kind of put off by Bucky's reaction but he doesn't let out a word. 

"Shit, sorry," Bucky says when he has finally calmed down, "man, trust me, Wanda is – she's not interested." 

Steve can only nod, not knowing what to say and kind of embarrassed that he suggested something that sounds so _absurd_ to Bucky. 

"Neither am I," Bucky says, so quietly that Steve thinks for a second that he didn't say anything at all. Steve guesses it was meant to go unnoticed so he doesn't say anything and just nods again, gesturing to Bucky to go back inside with him. 

They spend the rest of the night drinking, laughing and drinking some more. It's around one in the morning when Rhodes decides to leave and head home.  

It doesn't take long before most of the others follow his lead and soon enough, it's only Steve, Bucky and Scott around the table, the Maximoff twins on their way to the door. Scott takes his time to finish his beer, looking between the two other men without saying anything but Bucky can see right what he's thinking in his eyes. 

The three of them chat for a while, until Scott looks down at his watch and seems to realize how late it really is. 

"Well boys, I'm seeing Cassie tomorrow, I should head home," Lang says, getting up and putting his coat on. He says his goodbye to the men, Steve telling him to give his daughter a kiss when he sees her tomorrow.  

It only leaves Steve and Bucky in the bar, on their own. And if he's honest, Bucky's a little drunk and really stressed to be alone with Steve in that state. They stay put for a while, Bucky still drinking whisky and Steve having switched to soda about an hour ago. They talk about what has been going on in the past couple of weeks since they've seen each other, even if they know most of it, having been texting each other almost everyday. They stay their until the bar closes at three a.m and they end up in the street again, surrounded by snow and now, Bucky couldn't feel calmer. 

"Wan' a ride home?" Steve asks, nodding towards his bike, parked on the other side of the street, in front of the bar.  

Bucky gives a slight shake of his head, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

He wants to say yes, spend more time with Steve, spend all night with Steve. He wants to bring Steve back to his place and take him apart piece by piece and put him back together and _fuck_ , now he's feeling hot under the collar of his shirt and his cheeks feel warm. He clears his throat to try and calm himself down a little. 

"Nah, I feel like walking around for a little while," Bucky says, looking around a bit. "But thanks," he adds, looking up at Steve through his lashes before letting his eyes roam up to the sky. 

Steve takes that moment as an opportunity to really look at Bucky for the first time tonight. 

Bucky looks beautiful. Well, he always does, but there's something about him looking so carefree tonight, his hair up in a bun, displaying his scars openly. Steve can't help his eyes to wander down Bucky body, to his legs, tightly squeezed in skinny black jeans. Damn, these look so good on Bucky and Steve can't stop his mind from going to place where he can put his hands all over those thighs. His eyes go back up slightly, to Bucky ass and Steve groans softly and low in his throat, drawing Bucky's attention to him. 

"Wanna walk in the park with me?" Bucky asks, smiling gently at him.  

Steve returns the smile and nods, following after Bucky, heading towards the park. They walk in silence for a few minutes until they get to the park and enter. Bucky is walking in front of Steve and he can't help it, he picks up some snow and makes a ball out of it before launching it at Bucky's back, a giggle escaping his mouth. Bucky lets out a shriek when he feels the projectile hitting him. He turn around with a shocked look on his face but it disappears when he sees the genuine grin on Steve's face. 

"You motherfucker," Bucky growls before throwing his own snow ball right in Steve's face. Steve howls in laughter, dodging a second launch by Bucky aimed at his chest.  

Steve finds cover behind a tree, prepares a few snowballs while he guesses Bucky is doing the exact same. When he has about twenty ball, he peeks on the other side of the tree to find Bucky already looking straight at him with an eyebrow raised in challenge. They both chuckle and Bucky is the first one to shoot his snowball to Steve's stomach. 

They bombard each other for about ten minutes, until Steve catches Bucky trying to sneak around to his tree to fight him hand to hand. Steve throws himself at him and sends them both tumbling to the ground. They start laughing like kids as soon as Bucky's back hits the snow, Steve laying right on top of him. Bucky's laugh dies down a little and he pushes Steve to roll them over and push him in the snow. 

"You lose," Bucky says, his breath still full of alcohol but so warm against Steve's cheek.  

"Don't know 'bout that," Steve answers with a devious smirk playing on his lips and before Bucky van catch up and ask what he means by that, Steve smacks a handful of snow straight on Bucky's face.  

Bucky gasps then bursts out laughing, lightly punching Steve's shoulder, losing his balance in doing so, falling face first against Steve's chest. He laughs even more, feeling his cheeks hurt but feeling so good at the moment. He hasn't been a happy drunk in a long time. 

"Man, you're hammered," Steve tells him, chuckling softly, seeing Bucky's head bounce slightly with the movement.  

Steve's arms wrap around Bucky's middle, squeezing the slightest bit. They stay like that for a moment, not saying a word. They don't move until Steve feels the snow seeping through his jeans, chilling his ass and thighs so he pushes Bucky up and off of him before getting up himself.  

"I should head home," Bucky says, shaking his head. He pats his jeans in search of his phone so he can catch an Uber. Steve sighs as he grabs Bucky's phone from his hands before throwing an arm around the other man's shoulder.  

"I'm driving you," Steve explains, walking them back to his bike.  

"You're too nice Stevie," Bucky mutters, "too nice." 

Steve can't do anything other than laugh, handing Bucky his helmet when get to the motorcycle. He helps Bucky put it on and secure it before they both hop on the bike, Bucky settling behind Steve, his arms tight around the other man's hips. When they stop at a red light, Steve lets go of one of the handle in order to squeezes Bucky's hands resting on his stomach. 

It doesn't take long before they get to Bucky's building apartment. As Bucky takes off the helmet, Steve gets off the bike so he can walk the Bucky to the door. Bucky pulls his friend into a hug, tucking his face into Steve's neck.  

As Bucky pulls out from the hug, his face somehow gets closer to Steve's. They sigh simultaneously, still getting closer to one another, slowly but surely. Steve doesn't want to stop and neither does Bucky but one of them has to, and Steve knows it has got to be himself. 

"Bucky," Steve whispers, "you're drunk." 

"Don't mean I don't wan' it" 

"I can't," Steve pushes, "not like this," he adds, kissing Bucky's cheek. 

"Your loss," Bucky answers, getting inside his building without saying another word, without another glance at Steve. 

It takes a minute for Steve to put his helmet on and go home for the night.  

He isn't able to fall asleep for a while, his mind running a hundred miles an hour without him being able to even follow his train of thought. All he knows is that all his thought are centered around Bucky because as much as he knows that he had to stop Bucky from doing a drunken mistake, he wishes he didn't have a fucking conscience or manners or that he just wasn't a good guy at all. But then, he can't imagine being an asshole who doesn't let people be a hundred percent conscious and knowing of their actions. Bucky might be mad right now, might be mad tomorrow but in the end, Bucky will be thankful and Steve knows it.  

When he finally manages to sleep, it's restless. It's full of nightmares and memories and panic and Steve wakes up a least five times, crying or sweating or screaming or all at the same time. And when he knows he needs to get up, around eleven, the next morning, he feels like he hasn't slept at all.  

He makes himself breakfast before showering and going to the gym, needing to clear his head. He runs for an hour and lifts for as long, feeling the ache settle in his body as he leaves the place. He walks home slowly, trying to clear his head some more.  

His phone beeps as soon as he crosses the threshold. He takes his phone out while toeing off his shoes and sees a text from Bucky. 

> Bucky: Sorry bout last night, don't really know what happened 

Steve has no idea what to answer. Should he say he doesn't mind? Or to forget about it? Tell him he wanted it to?  

> Steve: Don't worry about it 

And when he thought it was the end of it, Bucky texts him to ask if he can come over to chill because he is bored out of his mind at home.  

Bucky gets to Steve place forty-five minutes later, Winter on his heel, her service dog jacket finally in place.  

"I don't know how you found the time to train her," Steve says when they're sitting on the couch, half an hour later with a bowl of pasta each.  

"I had time to kill," Bucky answers, shrugging, his mouth full of food. Steve can only shake his head at him, wondering how the hell can he find him adorable like that. "She's good though, almost fully trained now. She knows when she's in service and when she's not which is tricky for a dog that young. I mean, she was barely ten months old when Tasha adopted her. Kind of a good thing though, I guess. Puppies are easier to train." 

Steve hums in agreement, his mouth filled with pasta.  

They watch TV for a while, commenting on the movie they are watching – Home Alone – and laughing at least during half the movie.  

Everything feels so natural and normal that it's almost like nothing happened yesterday – or _almost_ happened – and for the second time in less than a month, Steve realizes that Bucky is his best friend. No matter what they go through, what stupid stuff they do, it's always light and casual to hang out. But fuck if he doesn’t want to make out with the guy.  

"So," Steve says, when the credits start rolling, "s'there anything you wanted to talk about?" 

Bucky turns to him, a surprised look on his face but Steve can see the dread in his eyes. The expression is gone is a second though, Bucky always covering his emotions as soon as they appear.  

"Don't know, is there?" Bucky asks as an answer. 

"Well, I don't know, we haven't had a session in a while." 

"Oh," Bucky says when he realizes it isn't about the both of them. "Yeah, actually, I do." 

Bucky starts with talking about the accident again but this time, he's able to tell Steve about what happened to him afterwards. It's a surprise to Steve because Bucky never hinted at the fact that he remembered anything about that since the last time they broached the topic, that night Bucky stayed over. 

For a week now, Bucky has been having the same dream. As soon as he falls asleep, he finds himself back in the same cell, in a hot, sandy basement. He feels the excruciating pain coming from his left side but he doesn’t dare look at it. 

Next thing he knows, he’s in a room that looks like an interrogation room but all he sees are torture instruments and a metal table with restraints on it. People push him to the table and make him lay on it before leaving him there for a little while. 

He's restless, trying to get free, to get those fucking restraints off of him. But he can't, he never can. doesn't matter if the dream is different, that's the thing that never changes. He _never_ gets free. And he's still trying to get away when they come back. One of them pushes Bucky's head back on the table and secures it as well so all he can do is turning his head left to right. He sees it before he feels it. His scars being ripped open with instruments he has never seen before but fuck if they aren't effective. He can't look away, his eyes fixed on his limb and all he sees are scarred tissues, angry and red, some sensitive, some numb.  

And that’s when he notices it. 

The drill. It's sitting right there, on the table next to him. And the man above him is picking it up like it's nothing, like it's not gonna hurt him, like the motherfucker isn't gonna put it right through Bucky's arm or hand or whatever.  

They ask him questions he can’t hear, can’t understand and the more he stays silent, the closer the drill gets to his arm. But he doesn’t say a word, and the tool is being pressed to his palm and then he feels the pain. He screams until his voice is gone and cries until there aren't any tears left in him. At some point, he doesn’t feel a thing anymore. 

Bucky doesn’t know how long it lasts and he doesn't know when the hell it stops.. He thinks he blacks out at some point, the pain being too strong. When he comes back to himself, he is still on the table but there are bandages tied around his hand as well as his bicep. When he looks over the other side, he sees Natasha. 

She's sitting on a chair, tied up, right next to where he's laying and her eyes closed. She has bruises all over her face and neck, her breath hitching with every single inhale she takes. She looks miserable. When she opens her eyes, all Bucky can see is the incommensurable sadness in them. 

“ _You have to tell_ _them_ _. You have to tell_ _them_ _everything_ _, James,_ ” she says with tears in her eyes and pain in her voice. 

He is crying when he wakes up. Every time. 

"It never changes, the dream is always the same so I figured it was a memory you know? Nat and I talked about it and – yeah, that's what happened," Bucky finishes with.  

Steve looks at him for a minute, not a word escaping his mouth and sadness filling his eyes. He doesn't know what to say. Hell, what could he say? There is no words that can describe the way he feels at this moment.  

"Shit," is all Steve can say for a while. He knows speaking is important in these situations but he can't, he really can't. So he hugs Bucky, as tight as he can and as tight as he allows himself to without choking the man, without setting him off into panic.  

There is no movement for a while. Bucky's hands fisted in the other man's shirt, his face tucked in Steve's neck, breathing him in slowly. Steve's hands are in his hair, rubbing softly and scratching his scalp a little and Bucky only sighs at the sensation.  

"The pain won't go but you'll get used to it," Steve murmurs in Bucky's hair. "It's gonna suck for a while but you're alive, pal," he continues to say in the same manner. "You'll get through it Buck, you did it this far. I'm not gonna say it'll be okay, cause it won't. What happened to you was fucking awful and there's no denying that but don't start torturing _yourself_ about what happened. It won't change anything. Don't go try to find a reason to this, there ain't none." 

Bucky's hand loosen around the fabric of Steve's shirt before tightening again, harder than before so Steve hugs the man more firmly.  

"I wish I hadn't made it out," Bucky confesses, his voice low and unsure. "Or I wish I never remembered. It was hard not knowing but knowing _this_ , fuck, it's even worse." 

The thickness of his voice makes Steve pull back to look him in the eye. Bucky looks confused, hurt, lost and it breaks Steve's heart. His hands leave Bucky's scalp to hold his face, forcing the man to look at him. 

"Hey, don't. Ain't nothing you can do 'bout it now," Steve tells him softly, his thumbs slowly rubbing circles on Bucky's cheeks. "Don't do this to yourself." 

Bucky nods lazily, his head feeling so damn heavy that he's sure that if Steve's hands weren't holding it up for him, it would fall instantly to Steve's shoulder.  

Silence surrounds them once again as Bucky's eyelids fall shut and his breathing settles. He tells himself he'll be fine, he'll get over it, but he hardly believes it.  

"Thank you," Bucky finally manages after at least five minutes. 

"For what?" 

"For listening to me and helping me," he answers, looking down at his hands, "and for not trying to fix me." 

Steve smiles softly at that, nudging Bucky so he looks at him, doubt in his eyes. 

"Hey, s'not my job to fix you. You're the only one who can do that." 

Bucky smiles at that before embracing Steve into another hug, softer than the first one but just as meaningful.  

"You're not as broken as you think," Steve whispers from where is head is laying on Bucky's shoulder. 

That makes Bucky suppress a sob, slightly tightening his arms around the man's back. 

"How d'you manage to do go into fires without thinking about war?" Bucky asks when he finally lets go of Steve.  

"When I run into a burning building, I know it's to save lives and only to save lives. I'm not going to fight someone, I'm not going to hurt someone, I'm going to _save_ someone," Steve answers, the honesty so clear in his voice. "It took me a while to figure that out." 

Bucky only nods, understanding but not really convinced it's enough. But after all, if it works for Steve, it's all that really matters. Steve talks about how he coped with guilt from war with throwing himself into his training as a candidate. He worked so hard that he didn't give himself time to think about what he went through, what he did.  

"D'you ever regret joining?" 

Steve thinks the question over for a few seconds, already knowing the answer but not wanting to answer too fast. 

"No, I don't" he says, shaking his head a little. "Not anymore at least. When one of my men died for the first time, I thought it would've never happened if I wasn't there. But I wasn't the problem, the war was. I stopped believing in what we're fighting for when I became captain. I saw how things were really done. I don't regret enlisting but I don't regret getting out either." 

"Not long after I became sergeant, I went on this mission with this guys. He was a damn good spotter, good kid, second tour together. We were in the desert, on our own y'know. Had been walking for like two days in enemy territory. I was used to it, nothing new. But he'd never done a mission without the whole squad and he was scared, I knew it. We got to our spot in the morning, waiting two days and two nights before they told us to move again. 

"We left and walked some more to the next safe place but when we got to the town it was next to, guns starting going off. I managed to get us to somewhere safe enough and when the morning came, he suggested we head back to camp, or the first spot at least but I said no, I said we had to continue with the mission. When we left our hideout, he was shot by a sniper waiting for us. He got me in the leg but I killed him before he could kill me. Booker was gone and I was hurt in the middle of fucking nowhere. It took them two days to rescue me. In that moment, I regretted every choice I'd made that led me there." 

Steve keeps his eyes on Bucky the whole time, his hand pressed to the other man's shoulder. There is silence for a few seconds, before Bucky's eyes go back to Steve's and his right shoulder – the one Steve isn't touching – lifts slightly.  

"I get it. I think we all had those moments at least once." 

With a nod, Bucky gets up to head inside the kitchen, opening the fridge to grab a couple of water. He throws one to Steve, a little smile playing on his face, before he chugs half of it in one go. He goes back to the couch a minute later, calling his dog over and petting her before looking up at Steve. 

Steve's hands are back on Bucky's shoulders, grounding him, silently telling him it's okay to feel this way and he hopes the sentiment goes through. He thinks it does when Bucky's eyes fill with so much hope it almost hurts to see. 

"Fuck it," Steve whispers before grabbing Bucky's face to bring it close to his, stopping as their foreheads touch. "Can I?" 

Bucky doesn't grace him with words, instead he just leans forward a little bit and lets their mouths meet in a timid kiss for a second. When Bucky hesitates, Steve tugs him towards himself and deepens the kiss, turning it into something passionate and real and _so f_ _ucking good_ neither of them can breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo, this happened! What did you guys think? I hope you like it, I'm actually kinda proud of this one.  
> Feedback is appreciate and encouraged  
> Thank you for everything guys!


	11. It's been a long lonely December

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so sorry about how long it took guys! I had written the chapter but lost it and then my computer died so, all in all, this isn't what I wanted to write in the beginning and it's much shorter than anticipated but here goes nothing.  
> Hope you guys like it  
> Chapter's title is from December by Neck Deep

For the first time in years, Bucky’s brain is silent.  

He can’t believe that he’s kissing Steve, that _Steve is kissing him._ But it’s real. So damn real he can’t do anything but cling to Steve’s neck in case he slips away. Never in his life has he felt so calm and grounded only with a kiss.  

As the kiss grows more and more passionate, Bucky finds himself straddling Steve, pressing himself as close to Steve as he can. The movement makes Steve emit a low groan, one of his hands slipping down Bucky’s back to pull him closer to him.  

Steve finally let’s go of Bucky’s lips only to attach his mouth to Bucky’s neck.  

“Fuck,” Bucky breathes softly, his hips rolling forward on their own. He can feel Steve smile against his skin and he can’t help the chuckle that escapes him. Bucky's hands run through Steve's short blond hair, pushing Steve's head closer to his neck.  

"You know," Steve says letting his lips roam over the skin on Bucky's collarbone, "this," he continues, his hands drifting along Bucky's thighs. "This is something I've wanted for a _long_ time," Steve finishes, his fingers coming back up to grasp Bucky's face to be able to look him in the eyes. 

Bucky doesn't know what to say so he just looks at Steve and nods, a small smile on his face. They stay like that for a little while, just smiling at each other without saying a word. 

After a moment, Bucky can't take the silent anymore so he starts kissing Steve again because it makes sense. Kissing Steve quiets his mind. He doesn't care if it doesn't last, if it's temporary or if it's a one-time thing. What he is feeling right now, it's more than he has felt in years.  

It won't make him better; it won't fix him but fuck it if it doesn't feel great to be _serene_ for once. 

The kiss grows heated again. Steve hands are back on Bucky's thighs, squeezing here and there. Bucky can't help but moan lowly in his throat before gripping Steve's neck.  

Steve flips Bucky on his back, hovering over him before covering Bucky with his entire body, settling between the man's legs. Steve grinds down on Bucky, his breath becoming more and more erratic.  

An annoyed groan leaves both of them when Bucky's phone starts ringing on the coffee table. They decide to ignore it, not willing to stop what they are doing. The phone doesn't stop ringing for a moment but neither of them stops.  

Bucky is starting to take Steve's shirt off when his phone rings again but this time, the sound is what Bucky recognizes to be Natasha's emergency ringtone. He sighs before pushing Steve away from his lips to reach his cell and grab it. 

Steve doesn't let go, his lips all over Bucky's face and neck while the man answers. 

"What's up?" Bucky says, his right hand going back to Steve's hair. "This better be a real fucking emergency," he adds through his teeth when Steve's mouth closes around Bucky's earlobe. 

"Need you to come home," Natasha answers sounding too calm for this to be urgent. 

"What's up?" Bucky repeats, trying to not concentrate on Steve hands under his shirt and his lips softly sucking at his collarbone. 

"Look James, you need to come back, okay," she says, her voice still too calm even if she's trying to sound rattled. She's good but Bucky knows her better than that. He has experienced her manipulations first hand too many times to be fooled once more. "I'll explain when you get here," Natasha adds. 

"I swear to god Natalia, this better be worth it or I'll kick your fucking ass," Bucky says before hanging up not before hearing Natasha snicker softly. 

He groans when Steve captures his lips again in a softer kiss this time but still as passionate. Bucky has to battle himself to pull away from Steve. There's nothing he wants more than to stay right here, with Steve against him, his lips on Steve's.  

"Steve," Bucky says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Stevie, I need to go." 

"Don't," Steve replies but moves off of Bucky anyway. He sits on the couch while Bucky gets up, tugging his shirt back in place and putting his phone in his pocket. He calls Winter over, puts her vest back on before coming back over to Steve.  

"I'm sorry, I wish I could stay." 

"Yeah well, s'much as I'd like you to, sounds like Nat needs you," Steve answers, getting up, standing right in front of Bucky. Steve grabs him by the neck to pull him in a kiss. "It's a shame though, I really wanted to get you outta these clothes," he adds, pecking Bucky's lips before stepping back. 

Bucky grunts at that, getting to the door and away from Steve before he caves and decides to never leave this place.  

"This ain't over, Rogers," Bucky says as he opens the door to Steve's apartment. "This ain't over," he repeats. 

He can hear Steve chuckle when the door closes behind him. He takes a minute to lean against the wall and breathe deep before heading downstairs.  

The walk back to his place takes him a half hour, which is way longer than he would like it to be. He considers running at some point but tells himself it's ridiculous and that whatever is going on with Natasha can wait a few more minutes.  

He does run up the stairs to his apartment, opening the door faster than he has ever done before. He quickly gets Winter out of her vest before heading to the kitchen, where he can hear Natasha's voice. 

Bucky was prepared for a lot of things but seeing his sister sitting at his kitchen table is definitely not one of those. He finds himself standing in the doorway, staring at Rebecca like he's seeing a ghost.  

"Took you long enough," says Natasha after a minute of him standing there.  

"Had to walk all the way back, asshole," Bucky answers, finally moving towards his sister. The minute she gets up, she's in his brother's arms, squeezing the air out of his lungs. "Damn it's good to see you," he murmurs against Becca's head. 

"Told you I'd come over for Christmas," she says against his neck, hugging Bucky a little tighter. 

Bucky chuckles and lets her go to go sit on the counter while Rebecca sits back down on her chair, opposite to Natasha who is smiling too widely for Bucky's comfort.  

"Where were you anyways?" Natasha asks, her smirk still in place. She's up to something and the fact that Bucky has no idea what it is makes him so uncomfortable he starts to squirm under her gaze. 

"Why d'you care?" 

Natasha just shrugs, turning back to Rebecca without giving Bucky another glance.  

"So Becs, how are you?" Bucky asks his sister, a happy smile playing on his lips. 

The last time he saw his sister was when he was in the hospital, after he woke up from his coma a couple of years ago. Seeing her now, so healthy, so grown up and beautiful. He missed her so fucking much. 

"I'm good, Bucky. What about you?" 

"'M fine," he responds, his smile suddenly turning shy. He can see Natasha looking at him suspiciously but he pays her no mind and tries to focus on his little sister who is sitting in front of him, who is _here_. 

"James," Natasha exclaims with a gasp, "are you being – " she pauses for dramatic effect. "Shy?" 

"Shuddup," Bucky answers, a blush rising to his cheeks. Fuck, he's acting like a twelve year old kid with a stupid crush. He's a twenty-nine year old grownup for fuck's sake, he's too old to react like this. 

"Am I missing something?" Rebecca asks, a confused look on her face. Her eyes go from Bucky to Natasha and back.  

"Jamie has a crush, it's cute."  

"It's not a crush, it's a –' Bucky starts but stops himself pretty rapidly. There's nothing he can say, he _does_ have a crush on Steve. 

"Yeah, it's a crush," his sister says with a wicked grin. "Come on, spill." 

Bucky sighs and looks down at his hands. He wants to tell them about Steve, he really does but he has never talked about _that_ with Rebecca. It's not like she is going to judge him or be mad but it doesn't change the fact that he's scared. He looks at Natasha and he knows the fear is clear in his eyes but she just smiles at him and nods softly.  

It will be okay. 

But even with Natasha's supportive look and presence, Bucky can't help but feel scared by what he is about to say. He knows Rebecca is open-minded and supportive but they were still raised by the same mother. A mother who had always thought and said that a man loving another man was something unnatural and intolerable.  

Bucky has always been scared of opening up to people, even those closest to him. And he has had every reason to his whole life. But this is his sister; the only woman in his life that has never been mad at him for more than two seconds. Rebecca has always been there for him, through thick and thin and it's time for him to finally be honest with her. 

"There's something I need to tell you," Bucky starts, finally looking up at his sister. "I uh –" 

"Oh my god James, she knows you're into dudes," Natasha declares, tired of seeing her friend beat around the goddamn bush.  

Bucky chokes on his saliva, his eyes bulging out.  

"Is it what this is about?" Rebecca asks, a small lopsided grin on her lips. "Bucky, dad and I, we actually talk," she adds, her eyes trying to convey how much she _doesn't care_. 

"Dad told you?" Bucky chokes out. 

Rebecca only nods, her smile back on her face, amused by the expression on display on Bucky's features.  

"For his defense, he thought I knew." Rebecca defends, putting her hands up slowly. "So you got a crush on a guy, uh?" 

"Name's Steve," Bucky tells her, looking at the cracks in the kitchen floor's tiles. He can't help the smile that tugs at his lips just by thinking about Steve, thinking about what they were doing not even an hour ago.  

"He's a firefighter," Natasha adds, wiggling her eyebrows to Becca. 

"And I need to meet him," Rebecca says, looking intently at her brother. She's about to say something else when Bucky's phone beeps with a text alert.  

When Bucky's eyes fall on the screen and he sees Steve's name on it, a smile breaks out which gets a laugh out of his sister. He flips her off while opening the text. 

> Steve: Everything good with Nat? 

Bucky quickly types in answer and when the phone rings again, he finally looks back up at the women sitting in his kitchen. 

"Well, he's on his way." 

 

The minute Steve crosses the threshold, the air in the room changes drastically. Bucky doesn't know what to do and Steve is obviously uncomfortable about the whole thing but it's good. The three most important people in Bucky's life are here, together in his living room and it's perfect. 

Steve gives Bucky a quick hug before turning to the only person in the room that he has never seen before. Looking at her eyes he instantly knows she's Bucky's sister. The blue of her irises is the exact same as her brother's. Her dark hair frames her face just like Bucky's. They look so much alike without even resembling each other. Steve has no idea how that's possible but looking at the siblings, he immediately knows they're related.  

Steve sidesteps Bucky to get to Rebecca, a shy smile on his face. He extends his hand to her but she just scoffs and, to Steve's surprise pulls him into a huge hug.  

"I'm a Barnes, I hug," Rebecca says as she squeezes Steve as hard as she can.  

A surprised laugh escapes Steve's mouth as he squeezes her back, his eyes catching Bucky's. The look they exchange is so powerful Steve has to look away or he will jump Bucky right here and now. 

When Becca lets him go, Steve swiftly hugs Natasha. 

"So you're Steve, uh?" Rebecca asks, a mischievous look in her eyes and a wicked smile on her face.  

Bucky groans as Steve answers, "In the flesh." 

After quick introductions, they all sit around the coffee table, the women in the couch and Steve and Bucky both taking place the armchairs surrounding it.  

The conversation flows easily and any hint of uneasiness present between them at the beginning is now long gone. Steve is seating there, talking effortlessly with Bucky's sister and he can't believe it.  

From time to time, Bucky's eyes meet Steve's glinting own and he can't help the feeling that courses through him.  

"So how long are you staying here Becs?" Bucky asks his sister, a hopeful look on his face. He doesn't want his sister to leave too soon, he hasn't see her in so long. 

"Well," she starts saying, a small smile on his face, her signature mischievous look gleaming in her eyes, "I was gonna wait a coupla days before saying anything but I'm not planning on going back." 

Bucky frowns and looks at Natasha as if she would have any kind of information but the redhead just shrugs, looking as puzzled as Bucky. 

"Look, I only got one semester left in Moscow and they want me to do an exchange so I thought I'd come here, you know?" Rebecca explains. 

"Where are you gonna stay?" Bucky wonders, worried his sister is rushing into this without a proper plan. 

"I don't know yet, I'm looking for a place." 

"Becca you can't –" Bucky starts but he's quickly interrupted by Natasha who says, "You can stay here as long as you need." 

Bucky sighs and rubs his face tiredly before nodding slowly. Natasha is right and Bucky needs to stop acting like his goddamn mother. 

"Shit, she's right. You're always welcome here," Bucky apologizes, actually looking a little sheepish. "Look, I just want you to be sure 'bout this," he adds, smiling slightly. 

Rebecca nods and assured Bucky that she has thought this through and that she is sure about her decision. She explains how Russia, as great as it is, isn't where she wants to end up. New York is more her speed and it's where she would like to work once she graduates so why not start now?  

Bucky feels so proud of her for taking her life into her own hands that he can't find anything to say to object to what she's saying. 

"I have a friend who's looking for a new roommate if you're interested," Steve interjects once Bucky starts asking in which part of the city she's looking to live in. 

Bucky looks over at Steve and silently thanks him.  

He's well aware he shouldn't be so protective of his sister, she's a grown up and has been for a long while now but there's a part of Bucky that keeps telling him that he wasn't there for her for far too long. So he feels like he should protect her, make sure she's safe at every given moment. Now that she's here and not leaving, Bucky feels like it's what he needs to do. 

"Maria's a coworker," Steve explains. "One of her roommates just got transferred to DC," he continues, telling her that Maria's friend will be vacating the townhouse in Bushwick. 

"That's great," Rebecca exclaims, getting up to get her phone from the kitchen. "Give me her info, I'll call her tomorrow," she calls from the other room. 

When Becca comes back, she questions Steve about his job as a fireman. Steve isn't shy about it, he loves to talk about his job. He answers every single question Rebecca has despite the groans Bucky emits half the time his sister opens her mouth. It only makes Steve laugh to be honest, seeing how Bucky is embarrassed with how Rebecca is grilling him. 

The subject quickly shifts from Steve's profession to what Bucky is doing with his life nowadays.  

Bucky is proud and happy to tell her that he's studying, trying to make something of his life. The look he sees on his sister's face the minute he tells her he's going to become an EMT is the same one she wore when Bucky announced that he was going to go fight for his country. Pride, surprise and the tiniest bit of worry. 

She tries to hide, she always has but Bucky can see right through her.  

Rebecca just doesn't want Bucky to be in danger. Even though she knows her brother is responsible and he always knows what he's doing but she can't help it. She almost lost her big brother once, she doesn't want to go through that again. Ever. 

However, she doesn't voice her worries. She's pretty sure his brother has it all under control. After all, Bucky has always come through the other side.  

When Natasha leaves the room to answer a phone call, Bucky takes it as an opportunity to get Steve alone for a second. They excuse themselves to Becca and sneak off to Bucky's room. 

"Sorry 'bout this," Bucky tells Steve the moment he closes his bedroom door. "It was –" he starts to add but the moment he turns around, Steve is pushing him against the door and he's on his lips, kissing him like his life depends on it.  

Bucky can't do anything but sigh into the kiss, bringing his hands up to Steve's hair and holding on. 

"Jesus," Bucky breathes out the second Steve is off his lips. 

"So," Steve starts to say, kissing Bucky's cheek. "I was thinking," he continues, letting his lips roam the other man's jawline. 

"That's new," Bucky answers, a content smirk on his face. 

"Shut it," Steve says, "I was thinking, we should go out tonight," he adds, softly licking at Bucky's neck.  

Bucky lets out a surprised little laugh, his hands going back up to Steve's face so he can bring Steve's lips back on his in a simple kiss. 

"I'd love to go on a date with you," Bucky says, smiling like a child. "It is a date, right?" he asks, suddenly insecure and scared that it doesn't mean what he thinks it means or that Steve doesn't feel the way he thinks he does. Maybe this is nothing more than a step further in their friendship and not a point where they become something totally new and different but still managing to remain _Steve and Bucky_. 

"Of course it's a date, you idiot," Steve says, laughing softly because, honestly, the look on Bucky face right now is tragically comical. 

"Good," Bucky answers, letting out a long breath of relief. "Good," he repeats, pulling Steve back into a kiss. 

"I gotta go though," Steve announces a moment after their lips separate. 

Bucky nods, his head falling to rest on Steve shoulder with a sigh. 

"I'll pick you up at seven, okay," Steve says, his hands roaming the length of Bucky back softly, feeling too comfortable to move an inch away from Bucky. 

"Okay," Bucky says, moving away from Steve so he can let him go.  

They exchange one last kiss before Steve finally leaves Bucky's apartment with a promise to see each other in only a few hours. 

The moment he's alone, Bucky tries to make sense of everything that happened today. He doesn't stay alone for long though because a couple of minutes later, Rebecca is laying on his bed, talking a miles an hour about how handsome Steve is and how good he seems to be. 

They spend a long time together, talking about a lot of stuff but mostly, Becca makes Bucky talk about Steve. Bucky tries to not feel ashamed at how giddy he feels just talking about Steve but to be honest, there's no way for him to make it seem like he doesn't care or isn't so damn happy about how this turned out in the end.  

And when, a couple hours later, Bucky starts to get ready for his date, he could not feel more at peace with himself.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this one, it was really fun to write.   
> Feel free to comment what you thought, I live for your opinions!!  
> Thank you for all the kudos and bookmarks as well


End file.
